


Comitatus (or, It Takes an Army)

by WanderingAlice



Series: Anagnorisis [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 77,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingAlice/pseuds/WanderingAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, all it takes is a little push. Sometimes, it takes a sledgehammer. Or Mjolnir.</p><p>The Avengers help Steve and Bucky recover, and EVERYONE plots to get them to kiss. Because they're totally in love with each other, and are the only two idiots in the world who can't figure that out. Thankfully, Tony has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this one took a little longer than I thought. But, I should be able to keep posting chapters every few days now. Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Also, does anybody know of a lullaby in Russian? I can google it, but I never like to trust google in my writing with a language I don't speak. I'd really appreciate the help (and can offer bribes of new stories.) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy the conclusion of my series Anagnorisis. (If you haven't read the other works in the series, it's not necessary to read them to understand this story, but sometimes it might help.)
> 
> Now with a beautiful mood board by the wonderful thestarfishdancer on tumblr! You can find it [ on thestarfishdancer's tumblr ](http://thestarfishdancer.tumblr.com/post/160455990102/a-while-back-i-hit-300-followers-and-the-lovely). She's an amazing person, and her posts always cheer me up when I see them on my dash. I cannot thank her enough for this lovely gift.

When Steve woke up, he was alone. At first he couldn’t remember where he was, and then he heard the steady drip of an IV and placed himself- the hospital. For one terrifying moment he was convinced that he was still in the hospital after the fight with Bucky, and the last few months had been a fever-dream and Bucky was still missing and brainwashed. Then he saw the empty chair by his bedside, the sketchpad (with a new pack of charcoal sitting on top of it) on the table, and the big red-and-gold STARK emblazoned across several of the machines in the room.

He was in the medical wing (and, seriously, Tony, _medical wing_?) of Stark Tower. Bucky had brought him in when he’d collapsed, trying to convince Bucky to stay. Something was wrong with him, some sort of sickness caused by a Hydra scientist trying to reverse the super-soldier serum. Bucky had been with him until he fell asleep. But now, Bucky was gone.

The heart monitor started sending out a cascade of beeps, but Steve ignored it. His chest felt tight, like a hand was squeezing his heart. Bucky had left him. Bucky had promised to stay, but he had left Steve alone again. It was getting hard to breathe. Steve’s vision was greying out at the edges, the world fading in and out of focus. Where was Bucky? Was he going to have to start the whole search over again? Would he even find him this time?

A door opened somewhere, and Steve distantly heard several machines start up a chorus of alarms. Rough coughs tore from his chest as his body fought for breath. Hands grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him still as he convulsed. A warm hand gripped his wrist, and he heard a familiar voice shouting for a doctor. More people rushed into the room. Something was stabbed into his shoulder. The hand on his wrist wouldn’t let go. It was comforting. Familiar. He began to calm down.

Gradually, Steve became aware of a soft voice in his ear. “Come on, Stevie. Don’t you dare give up on me. Don’t you dare. You gotta fight this. We’ll get you better, but you gotta stick with me until then, okay?” He tried to force his eyes open, looking for the source of the voice. “Come on, buddy. Just breathe. You’ve got it. In and out. You can do it. Come back for me.”

“Sir?” Another voice intruded on the soothing litany, and Steve tensed, a cough forcing itself from his throat.

“I’ve got this,” the voice snapped back. “You go work on whatever it is you need to do to get him better.” A door closed. “Thank fuck. I thought those bastards would never leave. Would ya believe they wanted to throw me out when you started that fit? Stark had to yell at them, tell them that I was helping and sending me away might make you worse. Come on, pal. Wake up for me, okay?”

Steve finally got his eyes open, though the struggle was harder than he had thought. Someone was sitting next to him, long hair falling in front of his face. Dark grey-blue eyes focused on Steve’s, and he smiled.

“Finally. You scared me there, punk.”

“Bucky,” Steve breathed, relieved.

“Yeah, buddy. I’m here.” It was Bucky’s hand wrapped around Steve’s wrist. His other hand, the metal one, was gently rubbing circles on Steve’s shoulder.

“You left me,” Steve told him, the words forming before he thought about them. But they were true. Bucky had left him alone.

“I just had to use the bathroom. I was right there. They told me you wouldn’t wake up for a few more hours.”

“No,” Steve shook his head. That wasn’t what he’d meant, not really. “You _left_ me.”

“I know, Stevie. And I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, ok?” Bucky gave his wrist a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay.” Steve let his head fall back against the pillow, but his eyes didn’t leave Bucky’s face. “Promise?” He sounded like a little kid. It was stupid. But he needed that promise.

Bucky nodded. “I promise. Whatever happens, so long as you want me here, I won’t leave you again.”

“Good.” Steve let his eyes close. Bucky never broke a promise to Steve. “Jerk.”

As he slipped back into sleep, Steve was sure he heard Bucky laugh and call him “Punk.”

 

The second time Steve woke up, Bucky was right there. Tony was there too, with some sort of tool, hovering over Bucky’s metal arm.

“Come on! I mean, I’ve never seen something like this actually working before. I know the theory, and I have prototypes, but the chance to see how it works! Does it connect directly to your brain?” Tony was prodding at the arm, and Bucky was glaring at him.

“No. Not until Steve’s better. Now be quiet, you’re gonna wake him up.”

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse. You don’t even have to leave him, I can bring a chair in and do it right here. It’ll be painless. Well, mostly painless. I promise!” Tony was being his usual, persistent self.

“You’re dreaming, Stark. I ain’t letting you fool around with my arm until I know I’m not gonna need it to help Steve out. What if he has another fit while you’ve got me tied down?” And that was classic Bucky, obstinate to the last. They locked eyes, trying to out-stubborn each other. Steve stifled a laugh, and two pairs of eyes turned to fix on him.

“Hey,” Bucky said, smiling.

“Hey,” Steve responded, and saw Tony roll his eyes behind them.

“You two are ridiculous, you know that?” he asked, attempting to poke Bucky’s arm with whatever that tool was.

Bucky ignored him. “You’re awake. Care to tell Mr. Mechanic here to bug off about my arm? He can see it later.”

“Tony,” Steve fixed Tony with his best disapproving glare. “Stop bothering Bucky, please. You can play with his arm when he says so, and not until.”

Tony pouted. “You’re no fun, Captain Tightass.” But he put the tool away and moved to the other side of Steve’s bed. “But I’ll let it go for now. Just because you asked nicely.”

“Good, because my next option was calling Pepper.” Steve had known Tony for too long, he knew all his weaknesses. And Pepper was definitely his biggest.

“This from the man who says he always fights fair!”

“Hey, I can’t physically make you back off from this bed. Pepper can. And considering she’s like a quarter my size, that’s really impressive.” Steve turned to Bucky, who was looking a little left out. “Have you met Pepper yet? She’s Tony’s girl. Very sweet. You’ll like her. I don’t know why she stays with this blockhead.”

“Blockhead!” Tony cried in mock offense, “This, from the man who doesn’t know what an internal combustion engine is!”

“A what?” Bucky asked, throwing Stark a confused glance. Steve shrugged.

“I rest my case. You are both Neanderthals.” Tony threw up his hands and turned away, towards the door.

“I may be a Neanderthal, but at least the press likes me!” Steve retorted, just to watch Tony snort.

“The press likes me!” Tony protested, pretending injury.

“What was that headline from July? “Billionaire playboy losing his mind?” Sure sounds like they like you to me.”

“That was just- That reporter was biased!”

“Because you slept with her and then left her alone in your mansion, right? Wasn’t that your usual M.O.?” Steve smiled to soften the blow. Tony had gotten a little touchy when people mentioned his ‘relationships’ before he started dating Pepper.

“You can’t use that against me! You haven’t gotten laid _once_ since you woke up,” Tony said with a wicked grin. “That’s just sad, man. I mean, I know you’re like a thousand years old and all, but a man has needs.”

“You haven’t gotten laid?” Bucky asked, eyes wide, and Tony cracked up.

“Nope, Capsicle here’s still a virgin, or so he says.”

“There’s nothing-” Steve was going to say ‘there’s nothing wrong with that’, but another coughing fit took him before he could get the words out. When it finished, Bucky was glaring at Tony.

“You, out,” he ordered.

“What did I do?” Tony whined, backing towards the door anyway. Steve couldn’t see Bucky’s face, but he figured he was giving Tony his patented ‘death-glare’. The one that used to make the soldiers under his command snap to attention.

“You made him cough,” Bucky said, and Steve shook his head.

“Buck, that wasn’t his fault, it-”

“It could’a been,” Bucky was obstinate. “The doctors say you need rest and quiet. _He_ isn’t conducive to either.”

“True enough,” Tony shrugged. “Guess I’m going back down to my lab. Call if you need anything, Cap. Or if your cyborg decides I can take a look at his arm.”

“Good _bye_ , Tony,” Steve said, trying not to laugh for fear it would set his coughs off again.

“Man,” Bucky said, when Tony had gone. “Was Howard ever that annoying?”

“He had his moments,” Steve yawned. He still felt exhausted, and he’d been sleeping almost constantly for at least three days. “Never did quite understand why you two didn’t get on. Seems like you like Tony well enough.”

“Like! Steve, the guy’s obnoxious!” Bucky protested. Steve reached out and wrapped Bucky’s fingers more firmly around his wrist, the touch was comforting.

“I notice you didn’t throw him out until I started coughing.”

Bucky brought his metal hand up to Steve’s forehead, like he was checking his temperature. “I couldn’t, he wouldn’t let me get a word in edge-wise!” He paused, his eyes un-focusing for a second, before meeting Steve’s. “You’ve still got a fever. Want me to go alert the doc?”

“Nah,” Steve let the topic of Tony drop, glad his friends were getting along, whatever Bucky said. “They’d just want to poke me with needles again. I’d rather you just stay here.” The truth was, he didn’t want Bucky to leave his side, afraid that if he did, he would disappear.

“Sure,” Bucky sighed, and the metal hand came down to gently massage Steve’s shoulders, the way he’d always done it when Steve was in the hospital when they were kids. Steve relaxed into the touch.

“How much feeling do you have with that arm, anyway?” he asked, to avoid asking the question he really wanted to ask, which was ‘how much do you remember’.

“It’s got pressure sensors, and I can work it pretty much like a normal arm. It’s also got a few gadgets they thought would be useful, like heat sensors and what-not. I can tell that you’re temperature is 107, which is two degrees cooler than it was this morning.”

“Neat,” Steve examined the fingers Bucky held up to show him, the metal neatly overlapping to cover the circuitry inside. “It’s hooked up to your brain?”

“Yeah. Don’t think I could do much with it, otherwise. Stark wants to run tests, see exactly how it’s wired in. I think he just wants to play with it so he can use the tech to enhance that tin can he wears.”

“Sounds…” Steve unsuccessfully tried to stifle another yawn, “like Tony.”

Bucky’s expression grew concerned. “You should sleep, Steve. Doc says you need rest.”

“I am resting, see, laying down and everything,” Steve told him, and Bucky shook his head.

“Idiot. Laying down and resting aren’t the same thing.”

“Sure they are. I’m laying here, you’re watching over me, I can’t get more relaxed.” Steve gave Bucky his best pleading gaze, to which his friend just laughed.

“You never change, do you?” Bucky asked, smiling.

“Nope.” Steve returned the smile, and they sat in silence for a little while, Steve drinking in the sight of Bucky by his side. After a time, he broke the silence.

“You’re really here,” he said, wondering. He hadn’t had time to properly process it before, and now it hit him like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, he had trouble holding back his tears.

“Yeah, buddy. I am.” Bucky seemed to understand, squeezing Steve’s wrist where he still held his pulse point.

“I thought you were dead. I- I looked for you. They said, they said you probably went in the river.” Now he really was crying. Bucky got out of his chair to kneel down next to the bed, wrapping his arms around Steve.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not dead. I’m here.”

Steve felt a sob rise in his throat and buried his face in Bucky’s shoulder. “I swear, Buck, if I’d known you were still alive,”

“You couldn’t’ve known. Nobody should have survived that fall.” Bucky had already forgiven him for not finding him. Perhaps he had never blamed Steve at all.

“ _I_ should have known.”

Bucky laughed, though it sounded tearful, like he was crying too. “What, you psychic now? Steve, there was _no way_ anybody could have known.”

“If I hadn’t brought you on that train-” Steve started to say, but Bucky cut him off.

“Bullshit. You know I would’a followed anyway. ‘Till the end of the line, remember? I wasn’t about to let you do something that dangerous alone.”

Steve tried to protest, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. “Seriously, Steve. It’s not your fault. It’s over. I’m here now. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

“I can’t help feeling like I failed you, though,” Steve admitted, and Bucky pulled away to look him in the eyes. There were tears on his face.

“You never. You’ve saved me when I should have died twice now. When do I get to return the favor, hmm?”

“You saved me all those times when we were kids,” Steve pointed out. Without Bucky, he never would have made it to become Captain America.

“Guess that means we’re even, then,” Bucky said. Steve nodded.

“Guess so. You really don’t blame me?”

Bucky frowned at him. “Do you blame me for the things I did as the Winter Soldier?” he asked, and Steve shook his head.

“Never. That wasn’t you, Buck. You couldn’t help it.”

“Then how can I blame you? I fell from a _moving train_. Off a mountain. Anyone else would have died, but Zola did some sort of experiments on me and I lived. There was really _no way_ you could have known.”

Steve still felt a little guilty, and he guessed maybe he always would, but Bucky’s words made sense. He nodded, reluctantly. “I guess… I guess I couldn’t’ve known. Still…”

Bucky shook his head. “When you did know, you brought me back. That’s what’s important here.”

Steve gave in, letting his head fall back against the pillow, exhausted. “I missed you,” he found himself saying.

“I missed you, too,” Bucky told him. “Now go to sleep, Punk. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Too tired to fight it, Steve acquiesced. He fell asleep to the gentle feeling of Bucky’s fingers in his hair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be a bit longer, but Tony wouldn't cooperate. Actual plot starts in the next chapter, I promise!

By the time Steve was recovered enough to move from the medical wing, Tony had finished re-fitting the floor he had intended for Captain America’s personal use in Stark Tower. The whole thing was now wired with audio and video pickup, plus his monitoring equipment. There wasn’t a corner of the place Bucky could go that Tony couldn’t see. The guy looked alright, but his orders to Jarvis made Tony cautious. If Bucky still felt there was a problem, Tony was going to pay attention. Steve was too important to not take precautions.

The Captain America floor, as Tony was calling it, was also fully equipped with a gym (made up to look like 1945, but containing all the best equipment certified to stand up to all the abuse a super-soldier could throw at it), a television with Netflix subscription, a kitchen, and two bedrooms. It was the highest floor, providing the best view of Steve’s beloved New York. The bedroom he intended for Steve even faced out towards the old neighborhood where Steve and Bucky had grown up, and the common space was all glass walls clean lines. Pepper insisted he put up paintings on the walls, so Tony negotiated with the museum to get some of Steve’s old artwork. They’d turned over about two hundred sketches, in return for a sizable donation from Stark Industries, and Pepper and Tony had sat down to go through them and decide which ones to put up on the walls.

Going through those sketches, Tony quickly realized one thing- most of them were of Bucky. At least fifty percent showed the guy in all sorts of positions. Tony’s personal favorite was of a young Bucky, maybe eighteen years old, curled up on a bed. His eyes were half open, and the sweet, innocent expression on his face was entirely at odds with the man he now knew as the Winter Soldier. Steve had spent a lot of time on that drawing, shading it so it seemed a beam of sunlight was falling right across Bucky’s face. He’d used blue colored pencil- the only color in the whole drawing- to catch the shade of Bucky’s eyes, a smoky blue-grey that stood out just enough among the black and grey of the rest of the drawing to bring the viewer’s eyes back to that point. Tony stared at it for a few moments before he realized that Bucky wasn’t wearing a shirt, the covers of the bed falling around his hips, revealing muscles sketched in prefect detail. The beauty of it left Tony speechless, and he silently slid it across the table to Pepper.

“Oh,” she sighed when she saw it, “Oh, Steve.” When she looked up at Tony there were tears in her eyes. “We’re not letting them get separated again.” Tony didn’t really understand her reaction, but he nodded anyway.

In the end, they put _that_ drawing in Steve’s room. At Pepper’s insistence, Tony had it framed in a simple wooden frame and hung so that anyone laying on Steve’s bed could look over and see it. They put up a couple more of people, one of a pair that were obviously Bucky’s family, one of a woman with Steve’s eyes, and a great deal of landscapes. Most of Steve’s landscape drawings featured New York in some way, and seeing the old city made Tony wonder if that was how his dad had seen it. There was a magic to Steve’s New York that Tony had never noticed before.

 

Going into Steve’s room in the med wing was difficult every time. Tony hated seeing him hooked up to monitors, hearing the beeps and whirs of the various machines the doctors hooked up to fight whatever the serum was doing to him. He also hated seeing Bucky’s face, drawn and worried as he watched over Steve. Once, he had entered after a bad coughing fit to see Bucky’s eyes wet with tears. He’d looked up as Tony entered and sighed, rubbing his eyes with the metal hand- the flesh one never left Steve’s wrist.

“I just… keep remembering when we were kids,” he said, and Tony really wasn’t equipped to deal with emotional stuff, but the guy needed to talk to _somebody_. And Steve was out cold, exhausted from the treatment and the illness both.

“He said he used to get sick a lot,” Tony shrugged, going over to the monitors. He’d been on his way to the lab when he’d had an idea about the serum the Hydra scientist had given Steve, and he needed to check the current readouts.

“He did. God, he was so sick. Half the time, nobody but me thought he was gonna make it through the winter.” Tony glanced over at the bed, to see Bucky had begun to run his hand through Steve’s hair. He _really_ wanted to ask if he had feeling in the metal fingers, but Pepper had given him a big talk on ‘sensitivity’ after the last time he’d tried to run tests on Bucky’s arm.

“He came that close?” He knew Steve had been sick, but he hadn’t realized it had ever been that bad.

“Sure. We spent the first winter of the depression in the hospital. Every other year or so, he would come real close. The docs all said it was a miracle he lived past ten. They all underestimated him. Everyone always underestimated him.” Bucky was smiling fondly down at Steve. Tony hadn’t actually thought people made those expressions outside of the movies.

“Looks like it all worked out for him, though,” Tony said, transferring some of the data to his personal tablet.

“Yeah.” Bucky sounded bitter. “Until he crashed a plane into the ice and ended up frozen for seventy years, only to wake up and find me brainwashed and Hydra running what amounts to the old SSR.”

Tony shrugged. “Still looks like he’s doing ok. If nothing else, I bet he’s glad he’s got you back.”

“Heh. Glad. I don’t know if that’s the word he’d use.”

“Ecstatic, maybe? Extremely happy? Exultant? Filled with joy?”

Bucky snorted. “Sure. Extremely happy to see me after I spent the last seventy years killing people for the guys he died to bring down.”

“No,” Tony walked over to clap Bucky on the shoulder. “Happy to see his best friend back from the dead, no matter how.” Then he hightailed it out of the room. The emotional displays were prone to giving him hives.

 

The next time Tony saw Bucky, Steve was awake and the sergeant was asleep. He looked up when Tony entered the room and smiled.

“Hey,” he said quietly, obviously trying not to wake his friend.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Tony pulled up the scans, checking to see if Steve was getting better. He _looked_ better, there was more color in his face and his eyes were a lot more alert. But it never hurt to check.

“Good.” Steve was smiling, watching Bucky’s sleeping face. The sappiness was disgusting. Seriously. How was this guy even real?

“Feeling better?” Tony asked, for want of anything else to say in the face of _that_ expression. Steve nodded.

“It looks like whatever you guys gave me last night is helping. Once I stopped coughing, he fell asleep.” Steve took the hand that wasn’t trapped in Bucky’s grasp and rested it over the one on his wrist. And seriously, they needed to stop being so sickeningly adorable. “I don’t think he’s slept much since… since he woke up.”

“And how much have _you_ slept since he… woke up?” And, god, he was turning into Pepper. Since when was _Tony_ the one to ask those questions?

“Hey, I’ve been dead to the world for the past two days,” Steve said, and they both winced at the unintended implication in those words.

“Sam said you didn’t sleep much while you were on the road.”

Steve sighed, and shook his head. “I guess I was just… worried.”

“Yeah.” Tony wished somebody else were here, this conversation was way too awkward. “Well, we’ve got your back. You need anything, just call.” He left. Quickly. It was getting to be a habit around those two.

 

Moving Steve up to his room was a project. Steve argued that he was fit to walk. Bucky insisted that he should play it safe and use the wheelchair, even for the short walk to the elevator and then up to the room. The doctors hesitated to move him at all, but Steve was insistent that he didn’t want to spend any more time in the ‘hospital’. Tony just stood back and let them all argue it out, while Bruce shook his head and tried to calm everyone down.

At last, they reached a compromise. Steve would walk, supported by Bucky, and the doctors would continue to check on him at regular intervals. Tony escorted them upstairs, and was proud of himself for not betraying his excitement. Steve’s face when the elevator doors opened was worth all the work. He gasped, turning to Tony with gratitude in his face.

“All yours, Cap,” Tony told him. “And the whole place is wired for security and linked through Jarvis. Any problems in here, we’ll know about it.” He glanced significantly towards Bucky, who nodded his understanding.

“Thank you, Tony,” Steve said, And Tony guessed that was for more than just the apartment.

Bucky consented to helping Steve though a brief tour of the apartment, though he didn’t look happy about it. That changed when they saw the artwork, Steve’s artwork, adorning the walls. Tony watched as his eyes went wide and then softened, his hand reaching out to brush the glass over a detailed water-color of an old baseball stadium.

“Would ya look at that,” he breathed, “I always said you’d have artwork hanging in museums. Guess that means private collectors too.”

“Well, technically, this _was_ from the museum,” Tony said, feeling slightly out of place.

“What? You bought my art from the Smithsonian?” Steve asked, and Tony shrugged.

“Sure. Pepper thought it was a good idea.”

“Remind me to thank her.” Steve was grinning like a little kid, looking like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Tony decided he didn’t even miss the parts he could have bought for his suit with the money they gave the museum.

Halfway through the apartment, Steve had a coughing fit and Bucky stopped the tour. He lifted Steve from where his arm was draped around his shoulders into a bridal carry that would have looked ridiculous, save for the concern on Bucky’s face.

“Which room is his?” he asked. Tony pointed, and hurried to catch up. By the time he reached the door, Bucky already had Steve on the bed and was holding him in a sitting position.

“Come on, buddy. Breathe. You can do it, come on,” he murmured, rubbing Steve’s back. Tony felt like an outsider.

“I’m… I’m ok,” Steve finally said. Tony was at his side, handing him a glass of water. “That one- that one wasn’t as bad as before.”

“Good. I’d hate to be paying people to not make progress,” Tony told him and watched Bucky look up as if he had forgotten Tony was there. He winked at the man, who seemed torn between a laugh and a scowl for a reaction.

“Hey, that’s-!” Steve interrupted before Bucky could decide, pointing across the room at the portrait of Bucky Tony had hung.

“Holy cow. I can’t believe you kept that,” Bucky’s eyes were wide.

Steve shrugged. “I kept everything. I guess the museum got them all when they thought I died.” He was smiling, and when his eyes met Bucky’s the smile widened. And, well, if Tony had known he could smile like _that_ , well, he might have fallen in love with him himself. Never mind that that was a terrible idea- Bucky would probably kill him for even thinking it, and Pepper would castrate him and _then_ hand him to Bucky for cheating on her. Plus, it was devastatingly obvious that the good captain was head-over-heels for his deadly guard-dog.

And that was, once again, Tony’s cue to leave. Those two were adorable. Sickeningly adorable. All they needed was a basket of kittens, and anyone who walked into the room would drown in the excess of _cute_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that one took longer than I thought it would. Sam is surprisingly hard to write! 
> 
> Please enjoy! And let me know what you think!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!

Sam wasn’t a saint. He tried his best, he really did, but sometimes he was wrong. Telling Steve Bucky was the kind you stopped? That had been his worst mistake to date. Not only had he been proven dead wrong, but those words probably had contributed to Steve’s desperation. Looking at Steve laying on the couch of his new apartment, weak as a kitten, with Bucky hovering over him, Sam felt incredibly guilty. He decided he had to make it up to them, but he didn’t know where to even begin.

“Hey, man,” he would have knocked, but they didn’t exactly have a door to knock on. The elevator opened directly into Steve’s living room. Steve looked up and grinned at him. Bucky kept his face carefully neutral. Sam got the idea that the ex-assassin hadn’t quite made up his mind about him yet; he was Steve’s friend, but hadn’t done the best job of protecting Steve. Sam understood. From what Steve had told him, it seemed that he’d been the only really important person in Bucky’s life. That was now doubly true, with Steve being the only one to remember him as he was- and the only person now living he remembered with any clarity. And Sam had been in Bucky’s place.

“I brought pizza,” Sam lifted the stack of boxes. “I remembered how much you eat, so I brought four larges. Meat Lovers, Hawaiian, Pepperoni, and I didn’t know what Sargent Barnes likes, so the last one’s just cheese.”

“Anything but pineapple,” Bucky said. “I don’t understand people who eat pineapple on pizza.”

“That’s because you’ve never tried it, Buck. Give it a chance, you might like it.” Steve sat up and made room on the couch, room that was immediately taken by Bucky.

“Have the doctor’s even cleared you to eat pizza? I mean, you had that coughing fit this morning, and it’s not exactly the healthiest of foods, so…”

Steve smacked Bucky on the shoulder. “Doc said I could eat what I want. You were there when she said it. You just want the pizza all to yourself.”

Sam laughed and moved further into the room, setting the pizza down on the table before taking the free chair across from Steve and Bucky. “Hey, if you can’t eat it, that’s more for me.”

“Sam!” Steve turned his wounded-puppy look on Sam, who grinned.

“Just kidding. What’s on tv tonight?”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, then grinned. “Baseball,” they said in unison. Sam groaned, and Steve threw a pillow at him.

“Don’t knock it,” he said, “I know for a fact you had fun at that game in… where was it? Wyoming? The one you dragged me to because you said I needed to calm down.”

“Alright, alright. But seriously, is that the only sport you old dudes watch? What about some football? I know it’s not football season right now, but I’d’ve thought you two would go in for the Army/Navy game, at least.” That got Sam identical blank looks from both super-soldiers.

“The what?” Steve eventually asked.

“The Army vs Navy football came. You know, college football, the Naval Academy team against Westpoint? I know for a fact that game’s been going on every year since, like, 1930. How do you not know this?”

The pair on the couch traded another look, and Steve shrugged. “It’s football. Baseball’s better.”

Bucky nodded. “Not like either of us ever went to officer school or anything.”

“I give up.” Sam shook his head in dismay. “I’m not having this argument again.”

“Only ‘cause you lose every time, Sam,” Steve said, reaching for a pizza box. He made a little noise Sam had come to identify as ‘happy Steve’ when he saw it was the Hawaiian, and grabbed two slices. Bucky gave him a disgusted look and searched through the boxes until he found the Meat Lover’s.

“Um, guys, plates?” Sam suggested, and was met with two guilty pairs of eyes, two hands paused halfway to their respective mouths.

“I’ll get ‘em,” Bucky said, putting his slice back down in the box and fixing Steve with a glare. “Don’t even _think_ of getting up. I got it.”

Steve shrugged in defeat and took a bite of his pizza. In minutes, Bucky was back with three plates and a pile of napkins from the kitchen, and the three of them settled in for an easy night.

Over the course of dinner, Sam actually got to talk to Bucky for the first time since he’d arrived in their hotel room, demanding he look after Steve. Getting Steve to New York had been too hectic, and in the plane, Bucky had sat tense and worried, not speaking to anyone, even as he kept a tight grip on Steve. After, Sam had gone to make the necessary reports to Director Coulson, and had gotten caught up trying to psychoanalyze Bucky after only two brief conversations. He’d only just gotten out of DC and back up to New York the day before, and the only reason he hadn’t come straight over then was that Stark or Banner had been keeping him updated on Steve’s condition. Seeing Bucky like this, relaxed, joking with Steve, even betting on the game, eased something deep inside Sam. He’d been worried they might still have a problem from the Winter Soldier, but it seemed like he was doing ok. Maybe he wasn’t back to being exactly the man Steve knew, and maybe he never would be, but he didn’t seem to be on the edge of losing himself again. Steve kept him grounded.

Sometime later, after the pizza had disappeared and Steve had started drooping sleepily onto Bucky’s shoulder, Tony Stark walked out of the elevator. Steve hardly even glanced up, but Bucky took a second to assess the newcomer. Sam recognized the pattern of a soldier evaluating for danger. Then he shrugged and tugged Steve closer to him, waving the metal hand as Stark crossed the room.

“Bucky! Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“What do you want, Tony?” Bucky growled.

“Now is that any way to talk to the man that gave you a house? Or the man that’s going to make you a shiny new arm?”

“Yep,” Bucky nodded, and Sam could see he was smiling.

“I’m hurt. Deeply hurt.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Tony came around the couch to stand in front of Bucky. “You sure about that, Snowcone? ‘Cause I _could_ just decide to kick you out, you know. This _is_ my tower.”

“Mmmph.” Steve made a muffled noise that sounded vaguely like protest, but didn’t raise his head from where he’d let it get tucked into the curve of Bucky’s neck.

“You won’t kick me out,” Bucky said with confidence. “Because if you did, you’d have Steve mad at you. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want that.”

Tony looked at Sam, who shrugged. “The guy’s got a point,” Sam told him.

“You’re all conspiring against me. Mutiny. Mutiny! … Hey, is that pizza?” Stark glanced at the discarded boxes.

“I think there’s still some Hawaiian left, if you want it,” Sam said, indicating the box still sitting on the table.

It looked like Tony _did_ want it, because he opened it up and snatched the two remaining slices. They were cold, but he didn’t seem to care. Bucky made a disgusted face.

“You and Steve. How can you even eat that? Fruit ain’t supposed to go on pizza.”

“What about tomatoes,” Tony argued, once he’d finished the first slice. “Technically, they’re a fruit.”

“You’re a fruit,” Bucky grumbled, to which Tony simply laughed.

“The evidence says otherwise, my good cyborg. Just ask my girlfriend. She’s coming home tomorrow, so you’ll get to meet her.”

“Pepper’s coming?” Steve turned his head so he could open one eye to look at Tony. “How’d her thing go? The one in London?”

“Fine, fine,” Tony started picking the pineapple off the second slice of pizza and popping them into his mouth, one by one. “She says she’s looking forward to seeing you, Cap. You had us pretty worried there for a while.”

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled.

“Hey, not your fault. Crazy Hydra scientist, remember? Speaking of which, we finished decoding the serum he gave you. Bruce thinks we’ll be able to work up an antidote in a couple days, but the doctors said you might not even need it by then.”

Steve smiled sleepily. “Thanks, Tony.” The guy was pretty damn adorable, curled up against Bucky like that, but Sam’s eyes were on Bucky’s face. The relief on it, when Tony said they would have an antidote, spoke volumes.

“No problem. Though, if you’re really grateful, you could get your buddy here to come down to my lab with me so I can check something on his arm.” Tony finished off the pizza and wiped his hands on one of the napkins laying around, before pulling some sort of tool out of his pocket. It looked like a cross between a disposable razor, a magnifying glass, and a laser pointer. Sam had absolutely no clue what it was for.

“What do you mean, ‘check something’?” Bucky asked, instantly wary.

Tony grinned. “I’ve got some ideas about how to improve it. But I need to see something first. Steve’s doing ok, Sam’s here to watch him in case something _does_ happen, so you have time to come to my lab now.”

“Improve it?” Bucky looked dubiously at his metal shoulder. “How?”

“Well, for starters, I can get it working a little better- I notice it’s not exactly designed for taking care of sick captains, carrying someone puts a whole different strain on it than combat, and that’s been doing some damage.” Stark leaned in and started peering through the magnifying glass bit on his tool, holding the thing over Bucky’s elbow. “And, see, look, stress fractures in some of the metal. Somebody repaired bits of it with inferior material. Sloppy work, that. I can fix that right up, and maybe install some new functions. Maybe something to heat it, so it won’t be freezing in winter? Give you a bit better fine motor movement? Hell, I can even put a gun in there, or some laser cannons.”

“Maybe nothing that can kill people, just yet,” Bucky said. Sam could see he was tempted by Stark’s offer, especially at the part about a warming unit. Cold metal attached to you had to be hell in winter. Sam didn’t even want to think about him being stuck in cryo with that thing. Obviously, his comfort hadn’t mattered much to the people that had had him.

“Ok,” Tony agreed, moving his tool up to poke at the shoulder joint. “How about a new paint job? The star’s getting kinda chipped. I could make it red, white, and blue. What do you think?”

“I probably should stay here,” Bucky said, glancing at where Steve had shifted against him so he could watch Tony. “I don’t want to leave him.”

“Go ahead, Buck,” Steve told him, sitting up and freeing Bucky’s other arm. “I’m fine, and like Tony said, Sam’s here if something happens.”

“You sure you won’t freak out again?” Bucky asked, clearly worried, and Sam remembered the conversation with Banner about a panic attack Steve had had when he woke up, and Bucky had been in the bathroom. This might be the first time Bucky had been away from Steve since then.

“I’ll be fine,” Steve assured him. “I know you’re in the building. That’s good enough. And if I wake up and you haven’t gotten back, I can always have JARVIS call you.”

“You’ll call me if something happens?” Bucky looked from Steve to Sam, who nodded. “You’re sure you’re ok?” he asked Steve again.

“ _Yes_ , jerk. Get going. The faster you get down there, the faster you can come back. Ok?”

“Ok…” Bucky stood. “But only ‘cause he’ll keep bugging me if I don’t.”

“You know me too well,” Tony said, already heading for the elevator. “So, how do you feel about red-and-gold?”

 

Steve sighed as the elevator doors closed and stretched back out on the couch. Sam watched him, noting the way there was suddenly tension in his whole body.

“So.” Steve watched Sam watching him. “Opinion, Sam?”

“About what?”

“Bucky.”

Sam took a deep breath and leaned forward. “He’s… much better than I expected. When he showed up in our hotel room last week, he looked a bit like a feral cat, half-starved and half-sane. The only thing he showed any emotion about was you. Even when he asked me to keep a gun on him, his eyes were blank. But when you would have a fit… man. He moved like lightning.”

“He stayed the whole time I was out?” Steve asked. Sam noticed his hand circling his other wrist, fingers against the pulse point. He’d seen the gesture before, but he hadn’t understood it until he saw Bucky’s hand in the same position. He wasn’t even sure Steve knew he was doing it.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Didn’t talk, either. Just kept staring at you.”

Steve smiled, soft and sweet. “That… actually sounds familiar. When I’d be in the hospital as a kid, he’d stick to me like glue, quiet as a mouse in case the doctors noticed him and tossed him out.”

“Huh. Makes sense, I guess. Anyway, what I was saying was, I didn’t get to talk much to him. I heard more from him in five minutes tonight than the whole plane ride out here. Seems pretty normal now, for a guy adjusting back to civilian life. Had a couple moments where I got a little worried, but… I have to say it. You were right, he is the kind you save.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. Do you think… do you think he’ll be okay?”

Sam considered his answer, before answering with confidence. “Yeah, I think so. But it might be a long time before he’s totally recovered. I’ll warn you, it might be tough. For both of you.”

“I don’t care,” Steve said. “Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.” Sam believed it. He’d been the one with Steve for the last few months, after all. And that brought him to another question. Watching the two of them together, it was like watching an old married couple. They moved around each other as if they always knew where the other would be, and the naked concern on Bucky’s face whenever Steve so much as sniffled spoke of something more than brotherly love.

“So, you two, are you sure you’re not…?”

“Sam.” Steve shook his head, walls slamming down around his face. “It’s not like that. Never was.”

“You sure about that?” Sam pressed. “Because from where I was sitting,”

“Sam!” Steve cut him off, voice uncharacteristically sharp. “For the last time. Bucky and me, we’re not like that.”

“But you...” Sam shut up. If he’d thought Steve’s expression had shut off before, it was nonexistent now. He knew that if he pushed it, he’d lose Steve, and possibly his friendship. He’d thought it before, and after tonight he was certain- Steve loved Bucky with everything in him. And he thought maybe Bucky felt the same. But it would all come to nothing, if they didn’t admit it.

Sam changed the subject. It took a few more jokes for Steve to open up again, but soon the easy friendship they had developed in the months chasing after Bucky was restored. Sam quickly noticed that Bucky wasn’t the only one who was talking more. Once Steve forgave Sam for bringing up his nonexistent romance, he was smiling and returning Sam’s banter more than he ever had before. He looked and acted more like the man Sam had seen in the old news reels they had aired all over the television after Steve had returned. Sam put one more thing on the list he was privately calling “Reasons I Know Steve Loves Bucky.”

After about two hours, the elevator dinged, and Bucky and Tony stepped out. Sam glanced at Steve, to see all the tension bleed out of Steve’s posture.

“Bucky!” he called, and the former assassin grinned and waved.

“How’d it go?” Sam asked.

“Great!” Tony bounced into the room. “It’s gonna be amazing. I mean, it already _is_ amazing, but it’s going to be even better when I finish it and get it on him. Now, Bird-man! Your turn to get into my lab, I’ve got something to show you.”

“Already? We were just about to start a movie. Can you believe Cap hasn’t seen _The Princess and the Frog_?”

“It’s almost ten,” Bucky said, frowning at the TV. “Steve’s been up too late. We can watch it tomorrow.”

“Bucky!” Steve groaned, and then yawned.

Tony laughed. “Yep, I’d say it’s time for all good captains to go to bed.”

“Guys, I’m fine. I’m not some kid that needs to be put to bed,” Steve protested, just before giving another large yawn.

Sam and Tony both burst out laughing, and even Bucky joined in with a quiet chuckle.

“Come on, punk. Bedtime.” Bucky moved around the couch and lifted Steve to his feet. Steve allowed it, putting an arm around Bucky’s shoulders with the ease of long familiarity. Another item went on the ‘Steve Loves Bucky” list.

“I guess it’s time for bed, then,” Steve said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah, Sam?”

“Sure. ‘Night guys.” Steve let Bucky support him back to his bedroom. The door closed behind them, and Sam heard it lock.

“Guess it’s just you and me, flyboy,” Tony said, looking at Sam. “Come on. You want to see this!”

Tony led Sam down to his private lab, where he dragged him over to a workbench in the back. They passed a table with what looked like three different metal arms laid out on it, tools and parts scattered around in untidy piles. There was also something that might have been a new Iron Man suit, and in one corner JARVIS had a hologram set up around an old motorcycle, showing the inner workings of the engine. But in the back, spread out on the workbench, was truly the best thing in the entire room. A new set of wings.

“I made some improvements on the design,” Tony said, pushing a button, and the whole thing contracted into a small square, roughly the size of a small backpack. “It’s light enough you can carry it even when you’re not wearing it, and it’s linked into our systems so when you _are_ , you can communicate directly with Jarvis, and with us. Also,” he pressed the button again, and the wings opened up in a graceful swooshing motion, it’s got more maneuverability than your last set, and I’ve even included some better propulsion tech.”

“I… wow.” Sam was speechless. “I don’t know what to say. This… this is amazing.”

“Say ‘thank you, Tony’, and take the wings. We can take ‘em for a test drive, if you want.”

“Thank you, Tony.” Sam pressed the button, and watched the wings retract. “Really. Thank you.”

“No problem, Feathers. Any friend of Cap’s and all that. Actually, speaking of friends of the captain, what do you think about our second icicle?”

Sam blinked at the abrupt change of topic. Then shrugged, he was beginning to realize that having Tony Stark for a friend was a bit like having a kid on coffee. A genius kid on coffee, which was sometimes even worse.

“I think he’s going to be alright. I think he has to be, or we’ll lose Steve too.”

Tony nodded, like he had been expecting Sam’s answer. “So you’ve noticed it too. Steve’s like a different person around Bucky. He’s happier, he actually smiles now. I guess we know the reason why the Widow couldn’t get him to go out with any of those girls.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s totally in love with the guy. It’s too bad, really.” Sam sighed. In a perfect world, Steve and Bucky would be happily planning a future together. But in a perfect world, Bucky probably wouldn’t have fallen from the train, Steve wouldn’t have gone down with the plane, and the Avengers would be short one Captain America to save the day.

“What’s too bad?” Tony looked suspicious.

“That they’re completely crazy for each other, and the only ones who _can’t_ see it is them. I mean, I know Steve’s crazy for Bucky, and Bucky only came back for Steve, so…” Sam trailed off as Tony frowned.

“Wait, what?”

Sam lifted an eyebrow at his confusion. “Steve and Bucky. Not actually together. That is what we were talking about, right?”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Wait, wait, you mean they’re _not_ secretly dating? At all?”

“You didn’t know?” It was Sam’s turn to be confused. “But you’ve been with them all week. Didn’t you see?”

“What I saw,” Tony said carefully, “was two men who are absolutely, _sickeningly_ adorable together. They’re like an old married couple, complete with the arguing about the temperature. How are they _not_ dating?”

Sam shrugged. “Steve insists that they’re just friends. He won’t even admit his feelings, but he said something that makes me think it’s because he’s certain Bucky doesn’t have any for him. Seems like the Winter Soldier was a bit of a ladies’ man back in the day.”

“But Bucky _does_ love Steve, right? I’m not just making that up?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think he loves Steve as much as Steve loves him. I’m not sure what’s keeping him from admitting that, though.”

“It’s because it was illegal back then,” a third voice said, and both men turned to see Pepper standing by the table with the arms. She smiled at them, and came to stand with an arm around Tony’s waist. “They’re probably not all that aware of the change in attitude towards homosexuality. Or, if they are, they probably think the other one still views it as wrong. Hi, Tony.” She said that last as Tony turned to face her, leaning down and cutting off the end of his name with a kiss.

“Welcome home,” he said, grinning, and there was another pair that was totally in love. Maybe it was a requirement for superheroes or something.

Pepper kissed Tony a second time, then turned back to Sam. “Anyway, Steve told me once that they lived in an area where there a lot of gay people went. So they know about gay couples, but they also grew up in a time when it was viewed as morally wrong. And while I don’t know about Barnes, Steve’s Christian, so he’s probably heard the whole hellfire speech from his priests a few times. If I’m right, Barnes thinks Steve thinks it’s a sin, and Steve thinks Barnes is only interested in women.”

“Fuck,” Tony breathed. “So they’re really not dating.”

Pepper gave Tony a look that Sam couldn’t read. “No, Tony. They’re not.”

“But…” Tony looked like his world had been rocked from under him. “But, they’re so… married. Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?” the AI answered, and Sam was never going to get used to that.

“Can you tell me the current location of Steve and Bucky?”

“Captain Rogers is currently in bed, sir. Sargent Barnes is sitting with him. There is a 90 percent probability that he is taking the captain’s pulse. There is also a 98 percent probability that the captain is asleep.”

“See?” Tony pointed vaguely upwards, in the direction of Steve’s room. “There’s no way they’re ‘just friends’. Steve doesn’t even sleep around us, unless he’s dead tired or knocked out.”

Sam shrugged. “True. But they don’t see it like that.”

Tony got a thoughtful expression on his face. “Then that’s something that’s gonna have to change.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, real plot!!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos, I really appreciate hearing from you.
> 
> And a big, big thank you to Owlet for providing the lullaby!

A few days after Steve was moved in to his apartment, Natasha returned from… wherever she had been, Clint in tow, and Tony decided to have a housewarming party. Clint genially agreed to settle into the floor Tony offered, and, while he still had reservations about living under the same roof as Natasha, Pepper insisted that he couldn’t give floors to all the other Avengers and not offer her one, so he did. She said no at first, but Pepper convinced her. That left Thor as the only one to not live in the tower, but since he’d been either off with his Jane or back home in his world, Tony hadn’t seen him since the tower had been completed. He had a floor ready for him, though, whenever he decided to come back to New York.

He had the party on the common floor, which had the biggest balcony. Everyone came, which was frankly a little surprising, but Tony had prepared enough burgers, hot dogs, and tofu dogs to feed twice as many people, so that was alright. He also had enough booze to drown an army, but that was the usual amount he kept in the tower. He wasn’t the only functioning alcoholic he knew, but he was the one with the best stash of alcohol.

Steve and Bucky were the last to come, the latter supporting the former with an arm around his waist. Clint leaned over to Tony and whispered in his ear “They’re adorable. When do they get married?”

“They’re not dating,” Natasha hissed, and Tony frowned at both of them.

“Meeting. After the party. Bring a plan.”

They both nodded. Bruce, who’d been informed about the “Meeting to Plan How to Make Steve and Bucky Kiss” that morning, hit Tony upside the head.

“Shh. You don’t want them to find out, do you?”

Thankfully, Pepper had distracted Steve, and Bucky was too busy watching Steve to have noticed the short conversation.

Then Steve saw Clint and Natasha, and his face broke into a grin.

“Whoa,” Clint said, this time to Natasha. “Cap’s smiling! Like, an actual smile. I haven’t seen him do that in, well, ever.”

“Clint! Natasha! You’re back!” He stepped forward, still a little pale but overall looking much healthier than he had even two days before. The antidote Tony and Bruce had cooked up seemed to be doing the trick.

“Hiya, Cap!” Clint waved a little.

“Steve,” Natasha stepped forward for a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“I got Bucky back!” Steve said happily, gesturing to his friend, and Tony noticed that the former assassin was standing stock still, staring at the Black Widow. “Bucky?” Steve noticed the same thing and turned to his friend with concern.

For just one moment, Bucky’s eyes went dead, and everyone in the room tensed. Then expression returned to his face with a lazy smile. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”

“It’s good to meet you, James.” Natasha shook his hand.

“Buck?” Steve looked like he wanted an explanation, which was good because Tony wanted one too.

“I was trained by the Winter Soldier,” Natasha said.

Bucky nodded. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t exactly myself.”

Natasha grinned. “I know. You are yourself now, though, right?”

“I think so. More or less.” Bucky shrugged. “But you’re welcome to check if you think it’ll help.” He winked at her, and just like that, the awkwardness was broken.

“I don’t think so,” Natasha told him, but she was smiling. “I’m glad you’re back, at least for Steve’s sake. He was looking pretty miserable without you.”

“Hey!” Steve protested, and Bucky laughed.

“Yeah, he can’t do anything without me. Look at the fix he got himself in now. Can’t even stand up for five minutes without me to hold his hand.”

Steve hit Bucky on the shoulder. The metal one, so it made a sort of clanging sound and couldn’t possibly have hurt. Bucky made a face at him, but before he could retort, Tony moved in. This was _his_ party, dammit, and he wanted everyone to have fun, not watch the two oblivious not-old guys snark at each other. Which, yeah, was fun, _but_.

“So, who wants hot dogs? I’ve got the grill all set up and ready to go!”

They all moved out to the large balcony area, where Pepper and Bruce continued a conversation that might or might not have been about Tony, but he wasn’t going to risk his chances of sex with Pepper tonight to find out, Bucky wandered off to look at the view, and Natasha and Steve sat by Tony at the grill, passing him things when he asked for them.

“So where have you been all this time?” Tony asked the redheaded assassin, that being the first question that came to mind. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“Creating a new cover identity.”

“You spent _four months_ creating a new cover?” Steve was incredulous. Obviously, the guy had no clue what real spy work entailed. Well, neither did Tony, but he knew enough to know that sometimes it took that long. And sometimes it didn’t, like the time Natasha had gotten herself hired to spy on him. And no, he wasn’t still bitter about that, just… ok, yeah, maybe he was still a little miffed he hadn’t realized, but in his defense, he’d been dying at the time.

Natasha shrugged. “Sure. Clint was there, he can tell you.”

“You took Clint to go build your cover?” Steve asked.

Clint came over to join the conversation. “Dragged me, more like. Showed up at my apartment one morning with a bag and told me to get packed. Next thing I know, we’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. For _four months_. And no, don’t ask me where we were. Nat would have to kill me if I told you.”

Tony smirked. “I bet you two had fun.”

“Yes, we did. Not that it’s any of your business,” Natasha told him, giving him her best ice-queen glare. Clint just shrugged and grinned.

“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for being interested!” Tony said, only for Steve to shoot him that ‘you’re out of line’ look he sometimes gave. Tony loved getting that look. He had to admit, if only to himself, that sometimes he said things just to make Steve make that expression.

“Tony,” Steve used his ‘warning’ tone, and Tony grinned at him.

“Well you can’t! If you had any life to speak of, I’d be asking you about it, too. I like to know things!”

“Sure. But there are some things you don’t need to know.” Steve leaned forward in his chair, all set to get into a ‘discussion’. Tony usually provoked him this way because it was the only time he showed signs of being more than just an unusually polite robot. Now, when he actually had life in him _without_ Tony’s prodding, he did it just for fun. Steve was just too easy to mess with.

“Nonsense. There’s nothing I don’t need to know. Every piece of information is fair game, and I have ways to get all of it.”

“Now that’s-” Steve started to say something and broke off. When Tony looked at him, he saw that his friend had gone white, hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard the metal warped under his fingers.

“Steve?” Tony was at his side in a second. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

“Bucky!” Steve called, eyes wide, and Tony followed his gaze to where Bucky was leaning over the railing to look down at the street below.

“Steve!” Bucky called back, and Tony wondered how he didn’t hear the tenseness in his friend’s voice. “You should come over here and see this!”

“You should probably move away from the railing, Bucky,” Bruce told him, moving over and putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky stepped back and looked at him, then followed Bruce’s nod to where Steve was sitting, tight-lipped and rigid.

“Steve!” Bucky ran across the balcony in a few quick strides, coming to kneel next to his friend. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

Color was already starting to come back to the captain’s face, and Tony had a good guess as to what the problem had been. Steve released the arms of the chair (and Tony really should look into getting super-soldier proof furniture for the common areas) and pulled Bucky’s hand to his wrist.

“You could’a fallen,” was all he said, before dissolving into a coughing fit. It was enough to confirm Tony’s suspicions.

“Fallen? No, Steve, I’m right here. I wasn’t gonna fall off Tony’s roof. That’d be silly.” Bucky obediently wrapped his flesh hand around Steve’s arm, while the metal one crept up to Steve’s shoulder where he started gently rubbing circles to comfort and calm him.

“I don’t think he was thinking about just now, Snowcone,” Tony said, and sudden comprehension dawned on Bucky’s face.

“Oh, god, Steve, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I didn’t realize it would worry you so much.”

“My fault,” Steve gasped out when the coughing had subsided. “I should’a said. It’s- normally, I’m fine. It’s just big drops that get me.”

“Part of that’s Tony’s fault,” Pepper said, coming to stand beside Tony. When Steve saw them all watching him, he hid his face in his hands. “He fell from a hole in the sky after delivering a live nuke to an alien army. The blast knocked the power out in his suit, and he’d passed out. He would have died, if the Hulk hadn’t caught him. I get the same problem some times. I was watching it all on the news.” Tony felt Pepper grip his hand tightly and squeezed hers. Sometimes, he forgot how much the stupid stuff he did would affect others. It was only after, when Pepper cried herself to sleep against him, and Steve and Bruce watched him carefully for any injury, that he realized he had people that would actually miss him if he died.

Bucky nodded to show he’d heard Pepper, but his eyes didn’t leave Steve’s face. “It’s ok, punk. I won’t do it again, I promise. You don’t have to worry about me falling ever again.”

“Ok.” Steve gave him a watery grin, and then promptly started coughing again.

“Come on,” Bucky said, lifting Steve from his chair, “let’s get you inside.” He cast a disapproving look at the grill, which was charcoal because burgers always tasted better that way. “I’m sure the smoke out here isn’t helping.”

Clint looked like he was going to follow them inside, but Natasha grabbed his arm. “No, let them handle it,” she told him. The archer looked at her for a moment, and then nodded.

“Ok, then, Tony, how about you let me take a turn at the grill?”

 

A little while later, when all the hot dogs were done and the burgers cooking, Tony noticed that Steve and Bucky had not come back outside. Handing control of the rest of the food prep over to Bruce, he went inside to try to find them. What he found cast a brighter light on the “Steve and Bucky problem,” and was undoubtedly another item for Sam to add to his list.

Bucky was sitting with Steve on the couch, backs to the door from which Tony had entered. That in and of itself wasn’t strange, he’d seen them like that many times over the past week, which was yet another item on Sam’s list. Tony heard soft singing, again, not a strange thing. What was strange was the singer, and the language. Because Bucky was singing. In Russian. And Tony was pretty sure what he was singing was a lullaby.

 

“Спи, младенец мой прекрасный, 

Баюшки-баю. 

Тихо смотрит месяц ясный 

В колыбель твою. 

Стану сказывать я сказки, 

Песенку спою; 

Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки, 

Баюшки-баю.”

 

Tony quickly beckoned Natasha over, and after some rather acrobatic waving (which he still couldn’t believe he managed silently) she entered the room, and froze. She listened for a few minutes, and then nodded, leading Tony back outside.

“Was that what I think it was?” he asked, the minute the door closed behind him.

“Was what what you think it was?” Clint asked loudly, drawing a shhh noise from Natasha. Bruce and Pepper wandered over.

“Bucky was singing to Steve,” Tony said. Pepper gave him her “and?” look. “In _Russian_.”

“So?” Clint asked. “I’m pretty sure someone told me he spent the last seventy years working for Russians. It makes sense he’d know the language.

“Sure, but he was a brainwashed assassin for pretty much all of that. Where’d he have time to pick up a lullaby?” Natasha pointed out.

“Maybe he heard it somewhere and remembered it?” Bruce suggested. Natasha shook her head.

“No. He was programmed for specific tasks. Anything outside those parameters shouldn’t have registered.”

“Maybe he needed it for a mission somehow,” Pepper said, though she didn’t sound like she believed it.

Natasha frowned. “I really can’t think of why he would need a song like that for a mission.”

Bruce watched Bucky and Steve through the glass of the window, expression thoughtful. “Maybe it would help if you told us just what he was singing?”

“It’s a Cossack Lullaby,” Natasha told them. “By… Mikhail Lermontov, I think. My grandmother used to sing it to me.”

“What’s it about?” Clint asked, watching Natasha’s face. It was a rare thing for her to talk about her past, especially around people who weren’t Clint.

“It’s probably better if I just translate it.” She took a deep breath, and began to sing. It was the same melody, but in English. The words didn’t fit the tune quite so well, but Tony had to admit, Natasha was a wonderful singer. Knowing Steve and Bucky both sang as well, he seriously considered instituting an Avenger’s Karaoke Night.

 

_Sleep, good boy, my beautiful,_  
Bayushki bayu,   
Quietly the moon is looking   
Into your cradle.   
I will tell you fairy tales   
And sing you little songs,   
But you must slumber, with your little eyes closed,   
Bayushki bayu.   
  
The time will come, then you will learn   
The pugnacious life,   
Boldly you'll stem your foot into the stirrup   
And take the gun.   
The saddle-cloth for your battle horse   
I will sew you from silk.   
Sleep now, my dear little child,   
Bayushki bayu.   
  
You will look like a hero   
And be a Cossack deep in your heart.   
I will hurry to accompany you,   
You will just wave your hand   
How many secret bitter tears   
Will I shed that night!   
Sleep, my angel, calmly, sweetly,   
Bayushki bayu.   
  
I will die from longing,   
I will wait inconsolably,   
I will pray the whole day long,   
And at night I'll tell fortunes   
I will think that you are in trouble   
Far away in a foreign land.   
Sleep now, as long as you don't know sorrows,   
Bayushki bayu.   
  
I will give you on your way   
A small holy icon,   
And when you pray to God, you'll   
Put it right in front of you   
When preparing yourself for the dangerous fight   
Please remember your mother.   
Sleep, good boy, my beautiful,   
Bayushki bayu. 

 

“Wow,” Clint looked impressed, eyes flickering between Natasha and the pair inside on the couch. “And Bucky was singing that to Cap?”

Natasha nodded.

“But I still don’t understand where he got it from,” Tony said.

“Maybe he learned it before the war?” Bruce asked, but Pepper was already shaking her head.

“As far as I know, neither of them have any Russian ancestry, right Jarvis?”

Jarvis answered immediately. “You are correct, Miss Potts. None of the family records for either Captain Rogers or Sargent Barnes mention ancestors from Russia or the surrounding area.”

“Right, and even if any of the nuns in their orphanage had been Russian, that’s not the kind of song they’d probably be singing. So unless Bucky picked it up after they moved out on their own, which doesn’t seem likely, he had to have gotten that song when he was actually in Russia.”

Bruce nodded. “Which means, even underneath the programming, Bucky was still himself somewhere deep in there. But… why a lullaby?”

This, Tony had an answer to. “Steve likes music like that… What?” he asked, when they all looked at him. “He told me a few months ago, when we were trying that kimchi place down the street. Said it helped him to relax sometimes.” Actually, Steve had been trying to help Tony out, offering suggestions to take his mind off the paralyzing fear of falling he still got sometimes, even now, but the others didn’t need to know that.

“So… the Winter Soldier, the soviet assassin that was programmed to think only what his handlers wanted him to, somehow picked up a lullaby because a man he didn’t even remember might like it?” Clint asked, incredulous.

Tony shrugged. “Got any better theories?”

That was the moment Sam arrived on his new wings, dropping in next to the small group. “Sorry I’m late, guys. Traffic was hell. What’d I miss?”

It took a few minutes to fill him in on the situation, and Tony was right, he took out his phone and jotted another item down on a list in his notes. Item number 12- “Bucky picked up a Russian lullaby while brainwashed.” When he finished, he looked up, thoughtful.

“Hmm. I guess this really is proof he was still in there the whole time,” he said. “I can’t think of any other reason why he’d remember something like that. It might have been an unconscious thing, something he was used to doing. Steve did say that Bucky would bring him home songs sometimes.”

“Wait, Steve sings?” Bruce asked, and Tony remembered that phone conversation with Bucky, where he’d learned that, yeah, Steve had been known to sing a lot, back in the 1930’s.

“He used to,” Sam said. “He stopped when Bucky died, but I got him started again when we were on the road. Started teaching him to play guitar.”

“Bucky said he also stopped drawing, too. I haven’t seen him draw at all since then though, so I figure he’s still not doing that,” Tony added, and there was another thing to add to his massive plot- getting Steve to draw again. He had to admit a slightly selfish reason for that one, though. He really wanted to get Steve to draw him a portrait of Pepper, something like one of the ones he’d seen of Bucky in the stack of drawings still sitting somewhere in their living room.

“Who’s not doing what?” a voice asked from behind them, and they all jumped guiltily, turning to see Steve and Bucky walking back outside.

“Tony!” Pepper called, looking over at the grill that they’d left unattended in favor of gossiping. “The burgers are burning!” It was all the distraction they needed, and in the flurry of action to save the food, Steve seemed to forget whatever he’d overheard.

 

It was a lot later that night that the official “Meeting to Plan How to Make Steve and Bucky Kiss” was convened. They’d had to wait for Steve to start yawning, which was the signal for Bucky to get all protective over him and herd him off to bed. Everyone knew that they would be spending the night in the same bed, but they also knew that said night would be actually spent sleeping. It was sad, really, and they needed to fix it. Tony wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him, but it did.

He led the way to his and Pepper’s floor of the tower, alerting Jarvis to keep anyone else out. It was just a precaution- Steve and Bucky didn’t tend to leave their floor at night, and nobody that worked in the tower would come all the way up here. They all sat around the kitchen table, Tony at the head. He leaned back in his chair, and really couldn’t resist the cheesy opening line.

“So I have called you all here today to talk about a matter of great import. Something close to the hearts of all of us, I believe. How to get Steve and Bucky to kiss.”

Clint rolled his eyes, Pepper just smiled at him a little, and Sam, Bruce, and Natasha shared a look Tony decided meant ‘Tony’s crazy and awesome.”

“So, what, we’re trying to get our leader and his old war buddy to hook up?” Clint asked.

Tony nodded. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do, Legolas.”

“Um, why?”

“Because they’re prefect for each other. Obviously.” Tony said, “And also totally in love. But not dating. Which is sad and wrong.”

Clint shrugged. “Ok. I guess it’ll kill time, and it’s not like I have anything else to do.” And Tony knew he had him hooked.

“So how do you propose we get them together?” Natasha asked, eyes on Tony.

“Well, there’s always locking them in a room together and not letting them out until they talk,” he said. Everyone groaned.

“No,” Pepper shook her head. “That’s a terrible plan. Veto.”

“Ok, what do you think we should do?” Tony frowned at her. It wasn’t a terrible plan!

“Well,” she bit her lip, a clear sign she was thinking hard. “I think first we need them to think about their own emotions. We know Steve hasn’t ever admitted to feelings for James, and I don’t know if James has either. We need them to admit it to themselves before they can talk about it.”

“How?” Clint asked. “I mean, it’s not like we can just go up to them and ask ‘hey, have you thought about making mad passionate love to your best friend?’ or anything.”

“I think Steve’s gonna be the tougher nut to crack,” Bruce said. “I talked a bit with Bucky while Steve was unconscious, and I think he’s already realized how much Steve means to him. He’s had to do a lot of thinking, especially about his emotions, while putting his mind back together. But Steve, he hasn’t had any big introspective moments that we know of.”

“Speaking of Bucky putting his mind back together,” Sam interjected before they could start plotting Steve’s ‘big introspective moment’. “We need to make sure he’s stable.”

Natasha nodded. “Yeah. I think we all saw how he reacted to me this afternoon- he looked like the soldier for a minute,” she explained to Sam. “It was over pretty quick, but it worries me. He’s still trying to get over the brainwashing.”

Bruce seemed to agree. “Someone needs to talk to him. Preferably someone who’s gone through a similar experience.”

Everyone but Sam turned to look at Clint, who tried to look innocent. “What?”

Natasha leaned forward to look him in the eyes. “You’re the one with the most recent experience. You could go talk to him about the thing with Loki.”

“Nu-uh,” Clint shook his head. “No way. Why don’t you do it? You had similar training, didn’t you?”

“I will,” the assassin told him. “But you should too.”

“Why? If he talks to you, he shouldn’t need me,” Clint’s voice sounded very close to whining.

“Because we’ve both had different experiences, and neither of us have had the same experience as him.”

“But Nat,” and now Clint really was whining.

Natasha shrugged and pulled out her phone. “If you won’t do it, you don’t have to. But then, I have no reason to keep a certain photo to myself.”

Clint paled. “You wouldn’t.”

Natasha grinned. “Oh, but I would.”

“Fine. Fine.” Clint sagged in defeat. “I’ll talk to him.”

Tony really, _really_ wanted to see that photo now, but Pepper put a hand on his arm before he could ask, and he thought better of it. He could always ask Natasha to show him when Clint wasn’t around.

“I can take him to VA for some counseling, too,” Sam suggested. “Might do him good.”

“Good plan.” Tony liked this plan, but it wasn’t getting them any further with actually getting Steve and Bucky together. “So, after we’re sure Freezer Boy is all there, we can move on to “Operation Make Steve and Bucky Kiss,” right?”

Bruce snorted, and everyone else looked extremely amused. “That’s what you’re calling it? Really?”

“You got a better name?” Tony asked. Bruce shook his head and made a ‘carry on’ gesture that Tony took as an apology.

“So, how do we make Steve realize Bucky has a thing for him? ‘Cause, I don’t know about you, but I think Cap’s going to keep denying he likes Bucky until he knows he’s got a shot.”

“Well…” Sam frowned at the table. “Maybe…”

“What’s your idea, Sam?” Pepper asked.

“Well, I was thinking, you know how he was singing to Steve in Russian today? Maybe he says other things to Steve in Russian, since he knows Steve won’t understand.”

“Hmm,” Natasha hummed, thinking. “I could teach Steve Russian as a way to surprise James. He should pick it up pretty quick, and maybe he’ll catch James saying something. It’s worth a shot, at least.”

“And if that fails, we could always resort to really blatant hints,” Bruce said, then looked surprised. “You know, I didn’t mean that seriously, but it might be an idea.”

“You mean, tease them and maybe they’ll start thinking about it seriously?” Pepper asked. “I don’t know, it could backfire.”

“Or it could be exactly what they need,” Tony said. “Steve’s not exactly a scholar of subtlety.”

Sam nodded. “Could work. Try a gentle push, and if that doesn’t work, hit ‘em with a sledgehammer.”

As far as Tony was concerned, Sam was the ultimate authority on the emotional needs of Captain America, so if he thought it would work, then Tony was completely convinced. “Sledgehammer, huh? Too bad Thor’s not here, we could get him to hit them with Mjolnir.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one was supposed to be more serious, and then.... I regret nothing.
> 
> I love hearing from you, your comments and kudos make my week brighter! Thank you so much for reading!

The hardest thing, Natasha thought, about being friends with Steve Rogers, was how goddamned oblivious and, fuck, _innocent_ he still was. She remembered that kiss on the escalator, he’d been so awkward, and absolutely adorable. He was like the little brother she’d never had, which was why watching him dance around his emotions for James Barnes was almost painful to watch. She wanted him to be happy, and, well, he _looked_ happy, but she knew he could be happier. And if this crazy plan of Stark’s had any chance at succeeding, she had to do her part. So when she stepped off the elevator into Steve’s floor, she double checked that she had the Russian books in her bag. Stark was only giving her a few hours without James around, so she needed to make the most of it.

“Hey guys,” she announced herself, and Steve and James turned to smile at her. She didn’t really know why she couldn’t bring herself to call him Bucky, it just didn’t feel right. They’d been everything to each other once, and she’d never once thought to ask who he really was. If she had, maybe she could have saved Steve a great deal of pain. But the past was the past, and right now two super-soldiers were sitting on the couch in front of her, arguing about, of all things, Disney princesses.

“No way,” Steve was saying, pointing emphatically to the screen in front of them, which was paused at the scene where Mulan saved Shang. “Mulan is _clearly_ the best. She’s the only one that actually does anything! The others just sit there waiting for the prince to save them.”

“What about Bell? She goes to the Beast to save her father. That’s not waiting for the prince to save her. In fact, she saves him. If she hadn’t seen who he really was beneath the curse and fallen in love with him, he would have been stuck like that forever!” Bucky was just as emphatic, and Natasha remembered them saying something about a Disney marathon with Sam Wilson the other day. He probably had no clue what he’d started.

“Sure, but you don’t see her offering to fight Gaston for him! Mulan actually faces down an entire _army_ for her prince.”

“But, see, neither of them are actually royalty,” Bucky pointed out. “Bell’s a princess because she marries the prince. Same with Cinderella and Tiana. Ariel, Aurora, Snow White are princesses by birth. Jasmine too. But Mulan isn’t royal, and neither is Shang. She doesn’t even count as a princess.”

“But…” Steve picked up his phone and showed Bucky something. “It says right here she’s one of the Disney Princesses.”

“Steve,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s Wikipedia. You can’t trust Wikipedia.”

“How would you know?” Steve asked, sounding more energetic than he had in days. It looked like he was almost recovered from his brush with Hydra. Or he was just that excited about Disney princesses. “Neither of us were around when it was invented!”

“It’s open-source editing. Means that anyone can change it. See, look, I’m gonna change mine. Now it says I’m the ruler of the universe.” Bucky held up his own phone triumphantly.

“Bet you that gets taken down before midnight,” Steve said, and Bucky grinned. “You’re on. The usual stakes?”

Natasha decided to intervene before this got any worse. “I hate to break up the party, boys, but Stark wants James here down in his lab. Something about measurements for the new arm.”

The both blinked at her, as if they’d forgotten she’d arrived, then Steve shrugged. “Ok. Fine. Winner makes the other do whatever he wants tomorrow. But tell Stark not to go overboard on your arm.”

Bucky laughed. “You’re the group leader. You tell him. He’s not gonna listen to me.”

“Go on, get outta here,” Steve pushed Bucky up off the couch. “I know you’re excited about that arm.”

“Yes, sir!” Bucky said with a grin, saluted them both, and headed for the elevator.

“He’s doing well,” Natasha observed, and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, yeah he is. There’ve been moments, especially since I really started getting better, where I think I’m gonna lose him, but he comes right back.” He gestured for her to sit down, and she joined him on the couch.

“That’s to be expected. He’s recovering from some pretty heavy brainwashing.” Natasha remembered her own recovery, how very long it had taken her to regain her own mind. James had come back to himself far quicker than she had, and she suspected it was because of Steve.

“How did you do it?” Steve asked, and she shrugged.

“It took a while. Bits and pieces coming back one at a time. Clint helped me through the last of it.” She looked around the room, seeing the odds and ends dropped randomly around the place (obviously from James) and the neat stacks of books and things (that had to be Steve’s.) They’d been here less than two weeks, and already the place was completely theirs. “He’s stronger than I was,” she said softly.

“Bucky?” Steve asked.

Natasha nodded. “Yeah. He’s come back a lot faster, and they had him for far longer than they had me. He… he helped me escape, you know. Got me out, when I decided I wanted to leave. He was their puppet, but he still helped me.”

Steve smiled, looking down at his hands instead of meeting her gaze. “Yeah, that’s Bucky. Never could stand to see people he cared about in danger.”

“He’s a good man. They didn’t take that from him.”

Steve looked up, meeting her eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

The silence stretched between them. This, caring about people, it was harder than it should have been. Natasha could do anything when she played a role, but when it was real… sometimes she felt out of her depth.

At last she sighed, and pulled the books out of her bag. Now was not the time to worry about navigating real human relationships. Now was the time to teach Steve Russian, so that she could see him happy.

“What’s this?” Steve picked up the first one- “Russian for Dummies.”

“I figure it’s a good idea. I mean, James and Clint and I already know Russian, so why not. You could surprise your boy, maybe understand some of the things he shouts in his nightmares.”

“How-?” Steve’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How did I know about the nightmares? Lucky guess, mostly. I know I had some pretty bad ones.” She didn’t know why she was sharing that information, she’d never told anybody but Clint about her nightmares.

“Ah. Yeah.” Steve looked back down at the book. “You think this could help him?”

Natasha nodded. “I’m sure of it.”

 

Two hours later, Steve was really getting the hang of it. It might have been something in the serum, or an innate talent from before, but with the right teacher he was really good at picking up languages. He told her, over the course of the lesson, that he’d learned French and German during the war, and even picked up a little Arabic after he woke up from the ice- the languages his enemies were most likely to speak. Russian was another language added to the mix, but he seemed to handle it well. Natasha wondered if, with his capacity for language combined with hers and Clint’s, they couldn’t come up with a code language specific to them, something for the Avengers to communicate in in battle so the enemy couldn’t anticipate them, even if they hacked the comms. But that was an idea for another time, after Stark’s master plan was completed.

The elevator dinged just as she shoved the books back into her purse, doors sliding open to reveal Tony and James. Steve looked in confusion at the now clear table, and she put a finger to her lips. The lessons would be their secret for now.

“So, Capsicle, Snowcone here says I can’t put a laser gun in his new arm. Thought I’d come get a second opinion.”

“ _No_ , Tony,” Steve said, but his smile was fond. “No lasers. No guns. Don’t go overboard.”

“See,” James told him, coming over to wedge himself in between Steve and Natasha on the couch. Tony plopped down on a chair across from them. “No laser gun. I need an arm, not a WMD.”

“Why not have both?” Stark asked, and James shook his head.

“No, Tony. I don’t need to be any more dangerous than I already am. No guns in the arm.”

“You? Dangerous?” Tony faked incredulity. “And here I thought you were as harmless as a kitten. Stevie here didn’t tame you, huh?”

James shot Stark a disgusted look. “Ok, one, don’t call him Stevie. That just sounds creepy coming from you. And two, no. Just… no.”

Steve laughed, and it had to be one of the most wonderful sounds in the world. Natasha hadn’t heard his real laugh until James had returned, and now she wondered how any of them could have thought he was fine, when, in contrast to the way he was now, he’d been like a ghost. She’d known he was unhappy, but she hadn’t realized just how broken inside he had been until she came back and he was healing.

“Ok,” James turned to Steve, obviously trying to change the topic. “How many hours have we got?”

Steve checked his watch. “Four. You wanna check now?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Let’s watch another movie. We’ll check it at midnight, and not until.” He paused and looked at Natasha. “He hasn’t been on his phone while you’ve been here, right? No Wikipedia?”

Right. The bet. Natasha shrugged. “Not that I’ve seen, at least.”

“Good. Wanna stay for… what’s next on the list? Brave?”

“Check what?” Stark asked, before she could respond.

“James and Steve have a bet,” she told him. “James put something on Wikipedia, and Steve bet him it would be taken down before midnight. The winner gets to order the other around tomorrow.” She turned back to James. “And yes, I would love to stay. I’ve heard watching movies with you two is something to see.”

“Cool!” Tony grinned. “Slave for a day, huh. Oh, I can just imagine the orders.”

“Get your mind outta the gutter, Stark,” Steve snapped, but he was grinning.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!” Tony protested. “It’s your mind that went there, Icicle.”

Steve threw a pillow at him. “You can’t stay for the movie, Tony. Out.”

“This is my building!” Stark whined. “You can’t throw me out of my own building!”

“But it’s _my_ apartment. I _can_ throw you out of my apartment,” Steve said.

“Bucky! Help me out here!” Tony implored, and the former assassin laughed.

“Yeah, no, I’ve spent too much time with you over the past two weeks, Stark. Plus, I knew your dad. I know where your mind went. Maybe I should tell Pepper.”

“Eh, she won’t care. She loves it when I talk dirty to her,” Stark said, settling into his chair. He obviously had no intention of leaving, but Natasha didn’t see either soldier moving to throw him out either.

“Ew. Tony, too much information, pal.” Steve frowned at him, which was probably the reaction Stark was going for.

“Boys,” Natasha interjected. “Weren’t we going to watch a movie?”

“Oh, right,” Steve grabbed the remote, cuing up Brave.

 

Four hours, two movies, and several arguments later, it was time to check on the bet. Natasha insisted on being allowed to do the honors, seeing as Steve and James were both involved in the bet, and Tony couldn’t be relied upon to give an accurate answer when he realized Steve would be under James’ command for a whole day if James won. Slowly, she pulled up the Wikipedia article on James “Bucky” Barnes. Sure enough, it still listed his title as “Ruler of the World.”

She looked up at the three men in front of her, their eyes locked on her phone. “Well, I guess this just proves you really can’t trust Wikipedia for everything. Sorry, Steve.” She showed them the page.

“Hah! Yes!” James crowed. “Twenty four hours of total obedience, starting now!”

Steve made a face. “Fine. You win. But Mulan is still a princess.”

Stark made a strangled noise that might have been a laugh. “You were arguing about whether or not Mulan is a princess?” he asked, and Natasha could see he was struggling to keep a straight face.

“Yes,” Steve said, at the same time James said “Nope.”

“We were arguing over which princess was the most kick-ass,” he corrected. “Steve insisted Mulan. I was backing Bell.”

“I think I’m gonna have to change my vote on that one, Buck,” Steve said, sheepishly. James and Tony turned to stare at him.

“Really? And who’s the most kick-ass now, huh?” James asked, and Tony gave Natasha a look that said ‘they’re really arguing about this?’

“Well, to be fair, I hadn’t seen her movie before the argument started, so… anyway. I think Merida’s the best now.”

James considered this. “Hmm. You have a point. Though, Rapunzel now…”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, she was kinda cool too. That frying pan and all. Kinda reminds me of my shield.”

“Maybe it’s a tie? Rapunzel and Merida?” James offered, and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“I cannot believe you two are ranking _Disney princesses_ ,” Tony said. “What are you, five?”

“Ninety-five,” Steve corrected. “And yes. We were. Something wrong with that, Stark?”

“No, no,” Tony raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “I was just wondering. I mean, who would have thought the world’s two best super-soldiers would spend their free time arguing about children’s movies.”

Natasha clicked a button on her phone. “Well, I think I’m done here for the night,” she said, not bothering to hide the smile that curled her lips. Steve froze.

“Nat,” he said, “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “Why would you think I did something?”

“Natasha,” Steve used his ‘warning’ voice. She just grinned at him, feigning innocence.

The elevator doors opened and Clint stepped out, phone in hand.

“Anyone want to tell me why I’m getting tweets with what sounds like Steve and Bucky arguing about Disney movies?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit of a roller-coaster, and it's longer than I expected, but Bucky just wouldn't let me finish it until he'd gotten a good look at what's going on in Steve's head. 
> 
> Please enjoy! As always, thank you so much for reading!

In hindsight, suggesting the usual stakes for his bet with Steve had probably been a bad idea, Bucky thought. If he’d lost, it would have put him completely under someone else’s control, and while he trusted Steve with everything and anything, he just didn’t know if he could hold up, mentally, when being ordered around. Thankfully, it didn’t matter, because he’d won the bet. And now he had the perfect opportunity to do something important- to get Steve to draw again.

Steve not drawing was the thing that really was bothering him the most, now. Steve was almost recovered from his brush with the “anti-serum” (as Tony had started calling it) and Bucky was actually pretty confident that, barring extraordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t relapse into being the Soldier. But Steve still wouldn’t pick up a pencil or a piece of charcoal. The little notebook he carried around with him was filled only with words, lists of things he needed to catch up on after 70 years. He and Bucky spent time crossing a lot of items off that list, like the Disney movies (and he was going to get Natasha back for that tweet somehow, mark his words!) or just re-learning each other.

They fit together the same way they always had. Sometimes, it felt like the past seventy years had never happened, and they were in their old apartment in Brooklyn together. Steve was the same as ever, still that same punk that was too stupid to run away from a fight. But something was missing. Steve’s smile, the one Bucky loved the most, the one that he could only describe as sunlight. And Steve’s drawing. Bucky had an inkling that the two were connected somehow. So, to get the smile back, he had to get the drawing back. And now he had a day where Steve had to do whatever he wanted.

He started the day by having Steve make him breakfast. Then, after they’d tossed the dishes in the fancy high-tech dishwasher, he dragged him over to the TV and made him sit through the first couple episodes of Game of Thrones- something he’d been dying to watch since Sam had told him about it. Steve seemed to enjoy it too, he despised the Lannisters right off the bat, though he liked Tyrion quite a bit. Bucky agreed, he thought the dwarf was probably the most interesting character.

They spent a few hours doing that, only to get distracted when Bucky compared Steve to Arya Stark. “You were a scrawny kid always getting into trouble and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!” And Steve decided that meant Bucky was like Danerys. “You protect those who are weaker than you, all the while claiming all you want is just to go home!”

Bucky had thrown a pillow at him for that. “Screw you, Punk. I ain’t some little girl that lets her brother sell her for an army!”

Steve had retaliated. “She’s more than that! She’s the Mother of Dragons!”

And things had gone downhill from there.

Lunch time found them in a pile of limbs and pillows on the floor. Steve had Bucky in a headlock, but Bucky had managed to reach out with his metal arm and grab Steve’s foot, ready to throw him. At the last minute, the intercom dinged, and Bruce’s concerned voice floated through the air.

“Steve? Bucky? Are you two alright? JARVIS is detecting elevated heart rates from both of you, and the vid feed isn’t all that clear on what’s going on.”

“Um…” Steve and Bucky looked at each other, carefully disengaging and disentangling various body parts and articles of clothing.

“You answer him Steve,” Bucky said, calling on the bet. Steve made a face at him.

“We’re fine, Bruce,” he said, looking up at where they thought the main camera probably was. “Just having some fun, nothing to worry about.”

“This isn’t another one of those arguments Natasha is going to want to tweet, is it?” Bruce asked. “Because I think you overloaded Twitter last night, and I don’t want to be responsible for a crash on their systems again in less than twenty four hours.”

“Nobody’s here to record the conversation,” Steve said, looking a little panicked at the idea they’d crashed Twitter.

“Oh contraire, mon capitan,” Tony’s voice came over the comm. “Jarvis has recorded the whole thing! And I, for one, am fascinated by the comparison of the Hulk to Hodor. And perhaps I should tell Natasha you both consider her to be like Cersi? I suppose that makes Clint Jaime.”

“You wouldn’t!” Steve looked at Bucky with wide eyes. “Tony, you wouldn’t, would you?”

Tony just laughed, and then there came a beep signaling that he’d disconnected.

“JARVIS?” Steve asked. “Please delete that recording.”

“Certainly, sir,” the AI answered. “But I regret to inform you that Mr. Stark has already made a copy, and appears to be listening to the whole conversation as we speak.

Steve and Bucky shared a horrified look. “JARVIS, please don’t let him upload it to the internet,” Steve said.

“I will do my best, sir, but I cannot promise Mr. Stark will not do so from a computer outside my control.”

“Shit.” Bucky flopped down on the couch. “Well, I guess it can’t get any worse than last night. I’m glad I hadn’t gotten around to making a twitter account yet.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I have one that’s managed by SHIELD PR people. All the Avengers do, actually. Apparently, they were overloaded last night by people tweeting about us. I swear, Nat does this stuff on purpose. A while back, after the Battle of New York, she took a photo of us all together at this restaurant Tony dragged us to for something called “Shawarma.” Put it up on Facebook. Pretty soon it was all over the world- a picture of us, exhausted, most of us still in our costumes, sitting around a table, too tired to eat the food right in front of us. Said it “showed our human side” or something.” 

“Heh. She’s right. I want to see that photo now. Steve, show it to me?” Bucky asked. Steve groaned.

“Oh, c’mon, Buck, you don’t want to see that!”

Bucky grinned at him. “Yeah, actually, I do. And you have to do whatever I say today, remember?”

Steve pouted. He did have a very effective pout, but Bucky wasn’t letting him get out of it so easy. He lifted his eyebrows and stared at Steve until he slumped in defeat and pulled out his phone.

“Here,” he handed Bucky the device. “Tony thought it was a great idea. We were all starving when we ordered, but by the time we got the food the adrenaline from the battle had worn off, and it was all we could do not to go to sleep right there.”

The picture showed a worn-out Steve sitting at the table staring at his food, while Tony leaned back in his chair, almost asleep. A big blond man that had to be Thor (being the only one Bucky didn’t know) was staring at the wrap in his hands with weary suspicion, and Bruce and Clint were leaning on each other, halfway to dreamland. It was a strangely familiar sight, and Bucky found another memory slotting into place- the Commandos, after a battle, sitting at a table, staring at the trays in front of them. More often than not, one of them would fall asleep and need to be carried back to his tent.

“It looks like you guys went through hell,” Bucky observed, handing the phone back.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we kind of did.”

“Tell me?” Bucky asked. He’d read about the battle on the internet, but now he wanted to hear about it from Steve. He wished, more than almost anything, that he could have been there to watch his back that day.

Steve took a deep breath and sank down onto the couch beside him. “It was… it was rough. Fury came to me with the mission, and I took it because I didn’t have anything else to do. I’d been spending my time trying to catch up on seventy years, but it was… it was hard. The world had changed, and not entirely for the better. And suddenly, there I was, and I didn’t know what my place was in it anymore. Fury’s mission offered me that place.

“So I got on the plane, and looked over the files. They had the Tesseract, that thing that Schmidt had been using to power all his devices. I couldn’t believe it. Fury said Howard fished it out of the ocean, trying to find me. And they were using it, the same way Hydra had been. Studying it. Making weapons, too, though I only found out about that later. Until Loki came along and took it.

“He took Clint, too, used some sort of trick to take over his mind, make him a willing minion. Clint and the scientist Erik Selvig, one of Thor’s friends. He used them to make a device he could use to harness the power of the Tesseract, to let his alien army through to take over Earth. As far as we know, he did it because Thor loves this planet, and Loki has major brother issues.”

“Brother issues? So Loki’s Thor’s brother?” Bucky asked. He’d heard that, but he wanted to be sure.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “Adopted, apparently. Thor said he’s power hungry and devious. Thor only ended up on Earth in the first place because of him. I’m not sure about the particulars, though. You could ask him, next time he drops by.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, maybe I will. From what you all say, he seems like an interesting guy. I’d like to meet him.”

“You’ll probably get your chance soon. We heard he was in London recently, and Tony left a message with Jane Foster, Thor’s girl, that we’d like to see him next time he comes to Earth.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky said. “So Clint and this Selvig were captured. What happened next?”

“Well,” Steve closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch, “We cornered him at a party, trying to assert his power over a bunch of people, claiming to be a god. I fought him, trying to take him prisoner.”

“Alone?” Bucky was horrified. What kind of organization sent one man, alone, to take on a god?

“Nah, Nat was in a jet as backup,” Steve clarified, “and Tony joined up about halfway through the battle. We were able to take Loki prisoner. But then Thor showed up, and kidnapped him.”

“Wait, but I thought you said they didn’t get along. Why would Thor rescue him?” Bucky wanted to know.

“I said kidnap, not rescue. He wanted to take him prisoner, to find the Tesseract. Anyway, Tony was in the suit, so he went after them. I followed, and found Thor and Tony fighting it out while Loki watched. Had to bash some sense into them, before they’d both calm down enough to examine the situation. Then we all took Loki back to the helicarrier, put him in the Hulk-proof cage, and tried to figure out where to go from there.

“But Loki’s got some nasty powers, and pretty soon he had us at each other’s throats. That was when I figured out about the weapons SHIELD was making, and confronted Fury. Loki was getting us all worked up, trying to tear apart the team. It almost worked, and then Clint attacked, there to rescue Loki. We fought him off, but Loki got away, and killed Phil Coulson.” Steve looked down, and Bucky saw him gripping his wrist, so he reached over and placed his fingers on Steve’s pulse point.

“Coulson was someone you liked?” he asked, knowing the answer already.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he was a good guy. He had… he had a collection of Captain America trading cards, stuff he wanted me to sign. I just didn’t get to it, before he…”

“He knew you would have,” Bucky reassured Steve, thinking. The name Phil Coulson was familiar to him, and not because he’d read about him during his internet search for the Avengers. He just couldn’t place where and when he’d heard it. Something to do with SHIELD.

“Maybe.” Steve shrugged, then shifted until he was laying his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “I hope so. Anyway, Loki managed to trap Thor in the prison and ejected it from the carrier. Bruce lost control and Hulked out, and ended up off the plane too. Tony and I fixed the engine Clint had stopped, stopping the ship from crashing, but we were too late to stop Loki getting away.

“The only good thing that happened was that Nat was able to bring Clint back, breaking through the brainwashing and waking him up.”

“How’d she do that?” Bucky asked. Steve grinned.

“She called it ‘cognitive recalibration’. She hit him really hard in the head. Somehow, that gave him just enough of a jolt to break through Loki’s control and come back to us.”

Bucky grinned. “Makes sense. So, next time somebody’s brainwashed, just hit ‘em on the head.”

Steve looked up at him, alarmed. “Buck! Don’t say that! There isn’t going to be a ‘next time’!”

Bucky met his eyes and lifted his eyebrows. “Steve, you’re a superhero. I’m pretty sure this stuff’s in the job description.”

“No. Not again.” Steve’s voice was strained, and Bucky realized maybe he’d made that joke a bit too soon.

“Sorry, pal. I promise, no more brainwashing, ok?”

“Ok.” Steve settled back down and Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“So, go on, you were all scattered. What happened next?”

“Well, we had to regroup,” Steve continued. “As far as we knew, it was just Tony, Nat, Clint and I in condition to fight. We were trying to figure out the next step when Tony figured out where Loki was going. See, Stark Tower was the first self-sustaining building of its kind, and Loki had made a jab about it earlier. We figured he needed the energy, so we took the jet. Tony went on ahead in his suit to confront Loki, but by the time he got there, he’d already set up his machine. The rest, well, there was a lot of fighting, especially once the aliens started coming through.”

“Pepper said something the other day, at the party, about a nuclear weapon? You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, but I gather it’s bad?” Bucky felt Steve shift against him, pressing closer. He tightened his grip, a rush of fondness for his friend washing over him.

“Remember what Howard was talking about, back in the war? About doing some consulting work on a weapon that would end all wars?” Steve asked. Bucky nodded.

“Yeah. Sounded kinda far-fetched to me.”

“It wasn’t though. They finished it, after we both were out of the picture. A bomb that can destroy a city. It not only levels the city, it leaves toxic radiation, making the area unsafe for years. I’ve seen pictures of the aftermath… it’s not pretty. They used two of them on Japan to end the war, after everyone else had surrendered. They said it saved thousands of lives, because the Japanese would have fought to the last man before surrendering for anything less. They didn’t take into account all the lives destroyed by the weapon.” Steve sounded sad, and Bucky decided to look up this bomb on his own, see what it had done. It sounded like the kind of weapon that was really too powerful for anybody to have.

“Anyway, after the war, a lot of countries started making nukes, and I guess it’s at least a sort of deterrent to war, because Russia and America had what they call a ‘cold war’, one fought between economies instead of armies. Neither one wanted to attack the other, because of a concept called Mutually Assured Destruction- since they both had nukes, if one used them against the other, it was pretty much guaranteed that they’d destroy each other. So now most of the major powers have some sort of stockpile of the things.

“And, during the Battle of New York, SHIELD overruled Fury and launched one at the city, planning to level New York in order to contain the threat. Fury alerted Tony about it, and Tony took the bomb and dropped it in the alien portal right before we closed it off. The trip must have been too much for his suit, though, because instead of flying back, he fell. Hulk caught him, and brought him down safe. He was unconscious, and we thought he’d died until Hulk roared and he woke up.”

“God,” Bucky was amazed. “Stark has some balls, doesn’t he?”

“Sure, or more stupid than even you,” Steve told him.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Bucky said, and Steve laughed into his shoulder. “Ok, so what happened next? There were still aliens on the ground, right?”

Steve shook his head. “They all just sorta stopped when the portal closed. Whatever was controlling them cut off. I’m still not sure if they were machines or living things, honestly. And Loki was in pretty bad shape from the beating he’d taken from Hulk. We found him passed out on the floor of Stark’s living room. Or, well, _in_ the floor. We think Hulk smashed him around a bit. He was pretty quick to acknowledge he’d been defeated, though, and we got him chained up and restrained so he wouldn’t hurt anybody else. Thor took him and the Tesseract back to Asguard, and that was that.”

“So was the shawarma before or after chaining Loki?” Bucky wanted to know. Thor was obviously still there in the picture, but he didn’t see Loki anywhere.

“After. We chained him up and SHIELD took him in for questioning. Even Thor was too tired to really feel up to taking him home until the next day.”

That made sense. A battle that hard, even someone with cosmic powers wouldn’t be able to recharge fast after that. “So what did you do after that? After you’d recovered and all?”

“Took off on a trip around America,” Steve answered. “I wanted to see how things were different now. And see the stuff we’d never got to see before. It killed a few months, then I was back at SHIELD. The rest you pretty much know. I was SHIELD’s errand boy, doing all the cleanup and whatnot, up until Project Insight.” He spoke the name with dislike dripping from the syllables. Bucky understood how he felt. That had been a shit show. But at least it had started the events that brought them back together.

“And then after that you were chasing me. Which was stupid, by the way,” he said.

Steve shook his head emphatically, raising it up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Never. I’ll follow you anywhere, Buck. You should know that by now.”

Something in Bucky’s chest felt tight and warm and happy all at once. He loved Steve, loved that Steve cared that much about him. He just sort of wished Steve loved him a bit more romantically too. But he’d take what he could get, and just being with him, taking care of him, that was enough. So long as Steve was happy, Bucky was happy too.

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, defeated by Steve’s earnest care. “I’d follow you anywhere, too. Guess that means we’re stuck with each other, huh?”

“Yep.” Steve laid his head back down on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky was about to suggest that they turn on the next episode of Game of Thrones (or maybe re-watch the last one, since they’d ended up horsing around through the last half of it) when his stomach growled. Steve’s gave an answering gurgle a half second later, and they both burst out laughing.

“Ok, looks like it’s lunch time,” Steve said, when he’d calmed down. “I think there’s some sandwiches and stuff still in the kitchen, or we could order something. What do you want?”

Bucky considered for a minute, then decided on the sandwiches. Of course, as per the bet, he made Steve make them. There was a lot of grumbling, but Steve gave in in the end. He’d always been the better cook, between the two of them, so he was used to making Bucky’s lunch.

“Y’know,” he said, as they were sitting down to eat. “I almost forgot what it was like to make food for other people.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Bucky wanted to laugh, but the sad, faraway look in Steve’s eyes stopped him. “You must’ve made something for the Avengers, once in a while. Like that time you made… what was it? That thing you did, out of the MREs on a mission out in the mountains. Everyone was complaining that the food sucked, so you grabbed all our meals and did something to ‘em. Whatever it was actually tasted like real food for once. You sayin’ you never did that for these guys?”

Steve shook his head. “Never had any mission long enough for that. The only time we ever ate together was when Tony would stop by and drag me off to try something.”

“You didn’t invite them over?” Bucky was a little incredulous at that. Steve had loved to invite their friends over, back before the war. Nothing big or anything, just dinner sometimes, when they’d had the money.

“No, I guess I didn’t.” Steve was frowning at his sandwich as if it had the key to the mysteries of the universe written on it.

“Why?” Bucky needed to know. The more he heard about the time Steve had spent in the 21st century without him, the more concerned he became. Because everything he heard, from the stories Steve would tell him, to the surprised looks the others would give when Steve did or said something, told him that Steve had not been acting like himself. Not at all.

“I dunno, Buck. Just didn’t feel like it I guess.” He took a bite of his sandwich, obviously trying to avoid talking by filling his mouth with food.

Bucky wasn’t having it. “No, Steve. I want to know the real reason.”

Steve carefully chewed and swallowed before answering. “That is the reason. I just didn’t feel like it.”

“Ok,” Bucky leaned forward, bracing his palms on the table. “Here’s the thing. You’ve got to do what I say today. And I want you to tell me why you didn’t have people over to your apartment, or go out, or do, hell, anything you used to love to do. And don’t tell me you ‘just didn’t feel like it’. I want the real reason.”

Steve glared, jaw set in that stubborn line Bucky remembered so well from back alley fights. “Really, Bucky. I didn’t feel like it. What was I supposed to talk about, huh? The “good old days” like I’m some old forgotten warrior re-living his past glory? The fact that, I wake up, and the world’s gone to hell, and they’re using _nuclear bombs_ , and terrorists are everywhere, and it feels like none of that stuff we did really made any difference? The fact that I missed you so much I felt like I was gonna break when I thought about you, which was damn near every day? The fact that sometimes I fall asleep and I’m back in the plane, and the water’s comin’ in, and I’m trapped, and I know I’m gonna die? Only I don’t, I wake up, and I’m still here. Every morning, I’m _still here_. And I don’t even know if that’s a good thing anymore.”

He pushed himself away from the table and turned on his heel, heading for the bedroom. Bucky let him go, knowing he needed time to cool off after having been pushed that far. Bucky needed time, too, to process everything Steve had said. It was pretty much what he’d expected, but he still hated to hear it. It wasn’t like nobody had been trying to help Steve, it was just, nobody had tried hard enough.

Bucky left Steve alone for half an hour, which was pretty much all his limited patience could take. Then he stood up, and cautiously pushed open the bedroom door, to reveal Steve, sitting on the bed, frowning at his phone. The fact that he didn’t move suggested he’d been doing it for a while.

“It’s a good thing, you know,” Bucky said. Steve looked up at him.

“What?”

“It’s a good thing. You being here. I know it, even if you don’t.”

Steve gave a self-deprecating sort of laugh. “Sure. For who?”

“For me.” Assuming he wasn’t going to get tossed out, Bucky made his way into the room. “I wouldn’t be here, if you weren’t. I’d still be locked up on ice in some Hydra base, or out on a mission doing bad things to good people. You brought me back. That’s a good thing. You being here is always a good thing.”

Steve looked down at his hands. “I guess that’s true.” He didn’t sound like he believed it.

“You guess? Stevie,” Bucky sat down on the bed beside him. “I know. I know it’s good. Because you’re good, you’re the best damn person in the whole world. Or isn’t saving me enough for you?”

Steve’s head shot up at that, mouth open, ready to protest that _of course_ saving Bucky was enough, when he saw the smile on Bucky’s face. Bucky just continued to grin, knowing what was going through his friend’s head. Finally, Steve grinned back and shook his head.

“All right, you win. But you’re pushing your luck, there, Jerk.”

“Well, since I’m pushing my luck anyway,” Bucky said, thinking _in for a penny, in for a pound_ , “I’ve got one more thing I want you to do today. Just the one, and if you do it, I’ll let you off the hook for the rest of the day.”

“What is it?” Steve was instantly wary.

“It’s nothing big. Something you like to do, even.” Bucky stood and walked over to the dresser, where Steve kept the empty sketchbook.

“Bucky,” his friend warned, watching.

Bucky pulled out the sketchbook and the charcoal, walking back over to Steve to drop them in his lap.

“I want you to draw me. You haven’t drawn me in ages, and I’m not eighteen anymore,” he glanced at the drawing on the wall, the beautiful one of him that always made him wonder if, somehow, there might not be a little hope that Steve loved him too.

“Buck,” Steve protested setting the book aside. “I haven’t drawn anyone in ages. I don’t really do that anymore.”

“Why?” Bucky prodded, picking the book up and putting it in Steve’s lap again. “You love it. You know you love it. I can tell you’ve been itching to pick up that charcoal ever since you woke up. But you don’t. So tell me why.”

At first, he thought Steve wasn’t going to answer, or, if he did, it would be like earlier, in a rush of angry emotion. But then Steve sighed, fingers pressed so tight against his wrist Bucky was afraid he was going to cut off his own circulation.

“I’m scared,” he said quietly, so quietly Bucky almost didn’t hear him.

“Of what?” Bucky sank down next to him again, leaning against his shoulder.

“Of what I might draw,” Steve admitted. “I… after you died, all I could draw was you, your eyes, the way they looked when you fell.”

“And you’re scared you’ll draw that again.” Bucky understood. That made sense. Steve drew with his heart, and with everything going on in his head, his heart had to be in some turmoil. Yeah, he understood, but it made him sad. He didn’t want Steve to be afraid of anything, let alone something he loved as much as drawing.

“I- yeah.” Steve let go of his wrist, instead wrapping his big hands around the sketchbook, knuckles going white as he tightened his grip.

“You’re an idiot,” Bucky told him. It was true. He was. “You ever think maybe you drew that because you needed to? Now, everybody and their brother has been going off about this type of therapy or that type of therapy to me. And the one I keep remembering them talk about is _art therapy_. You draw what you’re feeling or something. It’s supposed to help. And right now, I want you to draw me. It don’t have to be from life, I know I ain’t as pretty as I used to be. But I want you to _draw_ , Stevie. Draw me. And when you’re done, draw Tony, and Natasha, and all the rest of ‘em. Draw the city, like you used to. Hell, draw unicorns and rainbows if you want. But don’t you stop drawing, ever again, you hear me?”

He stopped then, aware he had made a speech without intending to. Steve was staring at him, eyes wide. He didn’t move, and Bucky hoped he wasn’t thinking up another excuse to not open that box of charcoal right that second. Instead of giving him the chance, Bucky reached over and opened the box, plucking a piece out and pressing it into Steve’s hands.

“Come on, punk. For me?”

Steve shifted his stare to the charcoal in his fingers, then slowly, agonizingly slowly, he opened the sketchbook to the first page. The blank whiteness of it stared back, an accusation. Steve closed his eyes.

“Please?” Bucky asked, allowing a little pleading to seep into his voice.

Steve sighed. “Fine. Jerk. But you’d better not move. And don’t blame me if it’s bad.”

Steve’s first drawing in years took about half an hour, and was just a quick, rough sketch of Bucky sitting on the couch. When it was done, he handed it to Bucky, who held it at arm’s length and examined it.

“Eh,” he finally said, “Could use some work. You’ll need to do it again.”

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” his friend said. And then, like the clouds breaking after a storm, Steve smiled. It still wasn’t the _right_ smile, but it was close.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE/GAME OF THRONES** (If you want to avoid the spoilers, I'll summarize the important bits in the end-notes for the chapter.) If you haven't read or watched anything about the series, I'm pretty sure you'll be able to understand everything anyway. But if not, please let me know and I'll go back and edit it for more clarity. 
> 
> So this one became a monster too. I really like writing Clint though, he's fun. I should say that, since we don't know all that much about his background in MCU, I borrowed some things from the comics. Hopefully it turned out alright. I like it now, but who knows what I'll think when I go over it tomorrow...
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoy! (And, uh, sorry about the gratuitous use of aSoIaF.)

It was looking to be one of those days. Clint sighed, wishing he wasn’t the one taking the elevator up to Steve’s floor. Or, at least, that he had a happier reason. A party, maybe. A party would be a much better reason than an impending mission. But no. He’d been woken up at too-fucking-early by Natasha’s phone going crazy. She’d dragged herself out of bed to answer it, eyes promising all sorts of activities to make up for the rude awakening. But then she’d gone into ‘mission mode’, and he knew something was up.

“That was Nick,” she had said, when she got off the phone. Clint had known what that meant.

“A mission, then. Where’re we going?”

“Me, not you,” Nat told him. “Nick needs my help with a Hydra base he found in Norway. He wants Steve, too.”

“Oh. Ok.” Clint had turned over, ready to go back to sleep, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“He wants you to look after James while we’re gone.”

So here he was, at… he checked his watch, _five thirty_ in the morning, stuck with babysitting duty. Not that he minded too much, really. He liked Bucky. But as far as he was concerned, there wasn’t any reason for Fury to be worried. The guy seemed pretty stable, albeit with a few hiccups. In fact, if they needed to be worried about anyone, it was Steve. He’d just recovered from the anti-serum, and now Fury wanted him out in the field? Sure, it wasn’t like they had an excess of super-soldiers, but still. They could have given him a week more, at least. He _had_ just spent the past few months chasing his long-dead best friend across the country.

The elevator doors slid open, and Clint stepped out, right into Steve, who was dressed for a run. Of course Captain America would be a morning person. Clint frowned at him, broadcasting his general displeasure at pretty much everything.

“Good morning, Clint,” Steve told him, _smiling_ again. God, it was way too early for this shit.

“Morning, Steve.” Clint barely restrained a yawn. “Sorry to cancel your run. You’ve got a mission.”

Steve shrugged. “I figured it had to be something like that. You’re not usually up and around this early.”

Clint glared at him. How was he _thinking_ at this hour? For Clint, cognitive function didn’t normally kick in until around noon, or after his sixth cup of coffee- whichever came first.

“So, where am I going?” Steve turned back into the apartment, dropping the water bottle he’d been carrying on the table and turning on the coffee maker.

“Norway. Fury wants you and Nat to help out with a Hydra base he found. She’ll brief you in the jet.”

“Ok,” Steve said. “Sounds good. When do we leave?”

Clint yawned, watching as the coffee maker whirred into life, the dark blessed liquid dripping slowly down into the pot. “Now. Or, y’know, as soon as you get up to the roof. Nat said she’d have the jet waiting for you.”

“’Kay. Just let me go tell Bucky. You’ll be here while I’m gone?” Steve suddenly looked anxious, and Clint remembered Natasha telling him Steve had had a panic attack when he woke up to find Bucky missing from his bedside. He probably was worried his friend would leave while he was gone.

“Yeah. Fury asked me to babysit your boy. You shouldn’t be gone long, but I’ll stay here until then. As of now, evaluating James Barnes for potential risk is my mission.”

Steve frowned. “He’s not a risk, Clint. He’s fine.”

“Sure. And I’ll tell Fury that, after I’ve made sure for myself.” Clint understood the need for the evaluation, and he was pretty sure Steve did too, he just had trouble separating the logical needs of the job from the needs and wants of his closest friend.

“Fine. Just, be gentle with him, ok? He’s been through a lot.”

Clint snorted. Coming from Steve, that was like a plague victim saying someone with the same disease had it rough. “So have you,” he told him, and was met with a wry grin.

“Sure. But I didn’t have any brainwashing to deal with. I was just encased in ice for seventy years. Here,” Steve grabbed the coffee pot, which had filled up with enough for a cup, and poured a mug for Clint. The safety kept the remaining coffee from dripping from the machine until he put the pot back under it.

“Ah, you’re a lifesaver, Cap,” Clint said, savoring the earthy aroma. Coffee was a wonderful thing.

“That’s what they tell me.” Steve moved away from the kitchen, towards the bedroom everyone was pretty sure he and Bucky shared. Without having sex, which was just criminal. Clint wasn’t gay or bi, but still, sharing a room with _Steve Rogers_ and not jumping him? Bucky must have some serious self-restraint.

He followed Steve, more out of curiosity than anything else. He and Nat had a bet on- she’d delete _that_ photo of him (and, really, it had been a dare! It wasn’t his fault!) if he won, or he’d let her try his bow on the honest-to-god _shooting range_ in the tower’s basement if he lost. The bet was whether or not Steve and Bucky slept in the same bed.

Steve pushed open the door, entering the dark room. Clint’s sharp eyes made out one bed (damn), Bucky’s form curled up against the pillows. The light coming in through the door fell across his eyes, and he groaned.

“Steve?” he asked, sleepily, rolling over and opening his eyes. “’S too early.” Well, at least _Bucky_ wasn’t a morning person. It had to be hell living with Steve in the mornings.

“Sorry, Buck,” Steve said, pulling open a drawer in the dresser and grabbing things by feel. “I’ve got a mission.”

“What?” Bucky sat up, eyes suddenly wide. “Where?”

“Norway, apparently. Fury found a Hydra base and wants me and Nat to come take a look.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. You just got better. Tell him no, Steve.”

“I’m fine, Buck. I’ll be fine. Fury wouldn’t ask if he didn’t think I was ready,” Steve reassured his friend. He pulled a duffle bag out of his dresser and shoved his stuff in it. Clint noticed a sketchbook going into the pack, so at least the rumors about Steve drawing again were true.

“Steve…” The man on the bed shifted, throwing his legs over the side.

Steve held up a hand, stalling whatever else he was going to say. “It’s ok. I’ll be back soon. Nothing to worry about, ok?”

Bucky sighed. “Fine. But if anything happens to you, I’m holding Fury responsible, you hear?”

Steve grinned. “Sure. I’ll let him know.” He turned towards the door, ready to go.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky called, and Steve looked back at him. He picked something up and threw it. Cap caught it easily in one hand, revealing a thin chain with… dog tags?

“Take care of those for me,” Bucky said.

“But, Buck, you just got these,” Steve protested.

“Exactly,” Bucky nodded. “Which is why you’re going to bring them back.”

Steve gave a fond laugh, reaching up and lifting a similar chain from around his neck. “Fine, then you’re taking care of these, Jerk. 1943 originals, so don’t you go losing them, alright?”

Bucky caught the tags easily, slipping the chain around his own neck. “I promised I wasn’t gonna leave you again, Punk. I ain’t so far gone as to be breaking promises to _you_. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“You’d better be,” Steve told him, then shouldered his pack and was gone. Clint’s sharp gaze noticed how Bucky tracked his movements until he was out of sight, then turned his eyes on Clint. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Then Bucky spoke.

“So, you’re my babysitter, huh?” he asked.

“Guess so.”

The former assassin shrugged. “Fine. I’ve got things to ask you anyway. But first- you a morning person?”

Clint blinked, thrown by the question. “Um. No?”

“Good.” Bucky lay back down on the bed. “I’m going back to sleep. There’s a spare bed in the other room if you want it.” And with that, he rolled over, pulling the sheets up around his shoulders, and promptly fell asleep.

Clint wandered out into the main room, closing the door behind him. Then he collapsed down on the couch with his coffee and settled in for a nice quiet morning, most of which he planned to spend asleep.

 

It was around noon that Bucky first poked his head out of his room, freshly showered with his wet hair tied back with what looked like a shoe string. He glanced at Clint on the couch, then made his way into the kitchen.

“Hungry?” he asked, sticking his head into the cupboards.

Clint looked up from his phone, where he’d been playing an old school pokemon game on the emulator he’d gotten Tony to build into the thing. “Whatever’s good. I think I’ve got some lasagna downstairs at my place if you want that.”

Bucky considered it, then shook his head. “Nah. We can do that for dinner. How about sandwiches? Salami ok?”

Clint shrugged. “Got any Swiss cheese?”

Bucky checked the fridge. “Yup.”

“Salami and Swiss then. With mustard. Thanks.”

“Hey, how come I’m making _your_ sandwich?” Bucky grumbled, but pulled the fixings out anyway. Clint went back to his game, until a plate was thrust under his nose. “Lunch,” Bucky told him, pushing the plate at him until he took it. Then the ex-assassin flopped down into a chair with his own food and grabbed the TV remote.

Bucky channel surfed as they ate, finally settling on an old black-and-white western. They watched a standoff between the town sheriff and the obvious bad guys, and Clint was getting really into it when he looked up to find Bucky staring at him.

He lifted his eyebrows at the man. “What’s up?”

Bucky frowned, leaning forward. “How well do you know Steve?” he asked.

“I guess I know him pretty well,” Clint said. “At least, as much as he lets anyone know him. Though Tony or Nat probably know him better. Why?”

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he asked another question. “Do you consider him your friend?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.” Clint really wanted to know where this was going.

“If you knew somebody was alive, but your friend thought that somebody was dead, especially if it was somebody they cared about, would you tell them?”

Yeah, no, that didn’t clear it up at all. Clint frowned. “I suppose. Unless I had a good reason not to.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “So why doesn’t Steve know Phil Coulson is alive?”

“What?” Clint felt like the air had been forced from his lungs, like that time in the circus where he’d tried to lift the strong-man’s weights and ended up with them on his chest. “Phil’s alive?”

“You didn’t know?” Bucky looked surprised.

“No. No, I didn’t. He… Fury said he died, Loki killed him. He can’t be alive.”

“He is,” Bucky said. “Or else someone else is wearing his name as the number two in SHIELD.”

“How do you know?” Clint asked, mind reeling. He’d really liked Phil, had thought they were friends, even. Why would he not at least send a note to say he was alive?

Bucky crossed his arms across his chest. “Because they sent the Winter Soldier to kill him. I only thought about it once Steve told me about the Battle of New York. I remembered the name, so I looked him up. And then I figured it out. He’d been a target. After I shot Fury. They sent me after him, but pulled me before I got very far. Steve and Natasha were a bigger threat.”

“Fuck,” Clint breathed. Then a sudden thought occurred to him. “Wait, how come we didn’t figure it out when Nat put all of SHIELD’s secrets on the ‘net?”

Bucky shrugged, and pulled over a laptop Clint had seen sitting on the coffee table. It was obviously a Stark special, but he didn’t know if it was Steve’s, or if Tony had given Bucky a new computer once he moved into the tower.

“Ever heard of project T.A.H.I.T.I?” The soldier flipped the computer open, bringing up a document on the screen. “’Cause I don’t think many people have. You, Steve, and Natasha are all Level 8. Most of the stuff that got dumped onto the internet is Level 8 and below. Most of the higher up stuff got cleaned up pretty quick. Like, actually gone, which is apparently pretty hard to do. I never got training on making files disappear, just on hacking in to get information.

“I borrowed Stark’s hacking program, and modified it to get into the files SHIELD was holding back. Even with that, I couldn’t get into the Alpha Level stuff, but at least I was able to get everything on Coulson before I was detected and chased from the system. Looks like they were trying to find a way to revive one of you guys if you died in battle. Coulson ran the project, but recommended it be shut down. Instead, it was used to save his life.”

Bucky handed Clint the computer, and he took it, browsing through the files with his mind spinning. Honestly, what the _fuck_ was going on? If Bucky was telling the truth, that meant Phil was Fury’s mysterious replacement, the one that hadn’t contacted any of the Avengers yet. Clint had just assumed whoever it was, was too busy dealing with the aftermath of the SHIELD civil war. But now, if it really _was_ Phil… it explained a lot. Like how they never saw his body, or how Fury wouldn’t tell them who he’d appointed as the new Director. “ _Fuck_ ,” Clint swore.

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

“You did? I thought you thought I knew Phil was alive.”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, it was pretty obvious none of you knew. Just had to be sure, is all. I don’t like it when people keep secrets, especially when it’s something that hurts Steve.”

“Does anyone else know?” Clint asked, handing the computer back. He’d seen all he needed to.

Bucky shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe Natasha knows, but I’m pretty sure Stark and Banner are just as clueless. And Steve still feels guilty the guy died before he could sign his trading card collection. Looks like he does have a team though, agents working directly under him. They’re probably the only ones that know he’s alive right now, outside of Fury and what’s-her-name, the dame… Hill. Agent Hill.”

“Right. I’m getting answers. Hang on.” Clint picked up his phone and hit the first speed dial. Nat picked up quickly.

“What’s up? Everything ok?” she asked, obviously concerned.

Clint didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Did you know Phil was alive?”

“I really don’t have time to talk about that right now,” she told him, which was confirmation enough.

“Goddamn it, Nat! You could have told us!” he shouted into the phone.

“It’s his choice. Look, I mean it when I say I don’t have time. There’s-” she cut off abruptly, and Clint heard sounds consistent with fighting coming over the line. Somebody, a man, screamed, and Nat came back on. “Sorry. I’m working now. We’ll talk when I get back.” The line went dead.

“And I love you too,” Clint muttered, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “She’s working,” he explained to Bucky’s enquiring look. “No time to talk.”

“She knows, then?” the other man asked. Clint nodded.

“Yeah. She knows. Probably knew before he even woke up. _Damn_.” He punched the table, only succeeding in bruising his fist. “You know, dating a spy really sucks sometimes.”

“I really wouldn’t know,” Bucky said, leaning back to sprawl in his chair. “I’ve never dated one before.”

“Take my advice, kid. Don’t do it. They always keep secrets.” He only remembered _after_ he’d called Bucky ‘kid’ that the man was technically a lot older than he was. But really, he didn’t look a day over 25. Maybe 30, but that was pushing it. It was the same with Steve. Probably something in the serum, or maybe being encased in ice for years.

Bucky snorted. “I don’t plan to. In any case, I’m pretty sure Fury’s ordered me confined to the tower, so it’s not like I’ve got a social life.”

“Yeah, no outings without at least two of us with you, and he’d prefer you just stay here. Anything beyond a walk down the street, and we have to get the director’s permission. Phil’s permission. That _asshole_.” Suddenly Clint was angry at Phil. He had to have known how much his friends missed him, and here he was, alive for _ages_ , and not even sending a note. It didn’t have to be much. Just a ‘Hi, I’m not dead’ would have sufficed.

“Not that I’m disagreeing, but which one? Coulson or Fury?” Bucky asked.

Clint gave a humorless laugh. “Both. They’re both assholes.”

Bucky laughed too, with a bit more actual amusement. “So, you’re gonna go talk to Natasha and Fury when they get back, right? Get some answers?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll get answers alright.” He would, too. If Fury wouldn’t tell him, Nat would. One way or another, he’d figure out what was going on. “Are you going to tell Steve?”

“That depends on what you find out,” Bucky told him. “If he’s got a good reason why nobody should know, then I’ll consider not telling him. Otherwise, yeah. He thinks he lost a member of his team. That’s a lot harder for him than he lets on.”

They watched the TV in silence for a while after that, another show had come on while they’d been talking, and Clint wondered what had happened to the sheriff from the last one. He hoped the man had lived, he’d seemed like a good guy.

A question started nagging at him, tugging at his curiosity, which Nat had always said was too much like a cat’s to let anything go unanswered. “Why’d you tell me? About Phil, I mean. I understand not asking Nat, but why not go right to Steve? Or Tony?”

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at him. “Do you see Tony handling something like this well? And Bruce is too nice to get the answers we need, so I wasn’t gonna talk to him about it. As for Steve, honestly, I want to know what’s going on before he finds out. I don’t want the truth to hurt him any more than it already has.”

Clint supposed that was fair. “You really care about Steve a lot, huh?”

Bucky shrugged. “I guess I do. He’s my best friend.”

Tony’s plan floated through Clint’s mind. _Really blatant hints_ , he thought, and schooled his face into a smirk. “Just a friend, eh? Then why’re you sharing the same bed?”

The former assassin turned red. Oh yeah, he was totally in love. “What? No, that’s not. I mean, yeah, we do, but we’re not… Steve doesn’t… no.”

Clint laughed. “Right. Which is why I _didn’t_ see him staring at you without a shirt on this morning. Uh-huh.”

Bucky shook his head adamantly. “No. Steve’s not like that.”

Clint ignored the easy bait, noticing Bucky said _Steve_ and not _we,_ or _I_. “Right. I guess you would know best. I guess I’ll have to find another theory for why he won’t go out with any of the girls Nat keeps throwing at him.”

“She won’t get him to date if she throws them at him,” Bucky said. “It’s got to be natural, or he won’t do it.”

“Well, you _are_ the one sharing his bed. I defer to your greater knowledge,” Clint teased.

Bucky took the bait. “I said it’s not like that! He just feels safer if I stay in sight, and we used to share a bed all the time, when it got cold. We had to, or he’d get too sick. It wasn’t like we had all that much money for heating during the depression.”

“Hey, alright, I’m not saying you didn’t. And you said it, he feels safer when he can see you.” Bucky had made Clint’s point for him, he just was too dense to see it. Though, to be fair, Clint had been the same way. Nat had literally had to hit him over the head before he realized exactly what was going on between them. That had been a magical night.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Why do I think you’re not convinced?”

Clint just shrugged and grinned. Never let it be said he didn’t do his part in Tony’s master plan.

 

After the drama of the lunch hour, the rest of the day passed relatively quietly. Clint started plotting how to get Nat to tell him about Phil, and watched Bucky. Bucky channel surfed for a while before growing bored and picking up a book. Of course he would be reading _Game of Thrones_. Tony had said something about an argument the other day that had had Cap and the sergeant in a rather compromising position on the floor. Sadly, JARVIS had deleted the feeds from the incident, but Clint was pretty sure Tony had a copy somewhere.

“Sure you should be reading that?” he asked as Bucky opened the book to a spot somewhere in the middle. “I mean, all that blood and death and everything. Not to mention the horrible stuff that goes on at the weddings, and poor Lady Stark-”

“Stop right there,” Bucky ordered. “I’ve only watched the first half of season one. No spoilers.”

“You sure? You don’t want to know how Joffery dies?”

“NO!” Bucky glared. “I said no spoilers!”

“Spoilsport,” Clint grumbled.

“Steve already told me, anyway. Even after I told him not to. Five times. I’m pretty sure he was actually glad when the brat bit it. Just goes to show, these books really can make you hate the characters.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed. “Nat said if she ever met Cersi in real life she’d kill her. Slowly. And I think Tony and Bruce have a whole plan for what they’d do to Walder Frey.” It was rare that the Avengers all read the same books, but Tony had given everyone the first book after he’d read it. Then Clint and Cap had walked in on Tony and Fury having a heated discussion about the merits of the Frey’s actions during the ‘Red Wedding’, and they decided to find out what the fuss was all about. Nat picked it up from Clint for something to read on the plane on the way to a mission, and who knew when Bruce had read it. He was probably the one that gave Tony the books in the first place. With Bucky picking it up, it looked like the only resident of the tower that _hadn’t_ read them was Pepper. And Clint was pretty sure she’d cave in one of these days.

He let Bucky read in silence for a little while, preferring to go back to his pokemon. He was about to win the last gym badge, and he _really_ wanted to get his pikachu up to level 100. He’d just about finished the battle, when Bucky spoke up again.

“Do you think Jaime can redeem himself?”

“What?” Clint asked, concentrating more on deciding whether to change pokemon for the last opponent.

“Jaime Lannister. Can he redeem himself for all the evil shit he’s done?”

Something in Bucky’s voice made Clint look up. The man was staring at the book, but he’d bet a whole lot that he wasn’t reading a single word right then.

“Well, that depends on what he does. Do you know what happens later on in the books?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “That’s why I’m asking. Steve says he starts to redeem himself, after he loses his hand. But the stuff he’s done… the guy’s got a lot of innocent blood on his hands. Can he ever make up for what he’s done? Bran, the stuff with Cersi, oath-breaking, and I’m pretty sure he had something to do with Tyrion’s first wife. And that’s the stuff I know about. There’s probably more. He seems like an all-around bad guy. Can’t see much making _that_ better. He can’t bring back the people he killed, or give Bran back his legs.”

Clint considered his answer. This felt like Bucky was asking for bigger reasons than simple discussion of a book. This felt like maybe he was asking, because he was identifying with Jaime, as a man who had done some terrible things, but seen the error of his ways. Never mind that Bucky was brainwashed, while Jaime Lannister went into all his actions, eyes wide open. Clint sighed and put down his game. This was probably going to take a while.

“No,” he said at last. “He can’t bring back the people he killed. But he can save others. He can do his best to protect the right people this time. He can’t go back and not break his oath. But he can keep his promises from now on. He can’t change what he did with Cersi, but he can stop fucking his sister and find out what real love is. And while nothing can fix what he did to Bran, Jaime can do his very best to help make sure his family, his sister Sansa, is safe.

“The thing isn’t that he’s fixing what he did wrong, because he can’t. The thing is that he’s sorry, and he’s trying to do the right thing now.”

“But being sorry doesn’t change the past,” Bucky pointed out. “If I spill my glass of water on Steve’s sketchbook, I’d be sorry about it, but that wouldn’t change the fact that I’d ruined his drawings.”

“So you’d go out and buy Steve a new sketchbook, and be more careful where you put your water in the future. You’d learn from your mistake. Jaime Lannister is learning from his mistakes, becoming a better person because of it. He knows he can’t fix what he did, so it’s what he does in the future that will decide if he’s redeemed or not.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t buy it. Everything that happened, everything he did, it’s done. It’s over. He can’t change it, even if he wants to. How can he live with himself, knowing he was so very wrong? How can he think that his future actions can make up for all the innocent blood on his hands?”

“Because the alternative is drowning in his own guilt,” Clint said firmly. “He could get so lost in thinking about what he did, and the innocent people who were hurt because of it, that he’d go crazy or kill himself. And that would hurt the people like Brienne, who genuinely care about him. She wouldn’t want to see him fall on his sword in grief for what he’s done. She wants to see him work to make the world better, in spite of his past.”

“So he feels bad about what he did, and she forgives him? It can’t be that easy.”

“It is. What’s harder is him learning to forgive himself.” Clint knew Steve hadn’t ever blamed Bucky for what he did as the Winter Soldier, just like nobody blamed him for what he’d done under Loki’s control. But sometimes he still struggled with guilt over the things he had done, and the things he had almost done. And he was pretty sure Bucky had the same problem.

“Do you think he will?” Bucky asked, and Clint heard ‘ _do you think **I** will?_ ’ underneath the question.

“Yeah, I do.” The answer was the same, no matter which one Bucky had said. “I think most of what happened was because of circumstances beyond his control. At the time, he didn’t know any better. Now he does. And he has the chance to make up for it, make the right choices this time.”

“And me?” The words were so soft, Clint almost didn’t hear them. Lucky for him, his hearing aid was SHIELD tech. (And that thought gave him an idea, but that was something to think about at another time.)

“Well, last time I checked, you hadn’t had sex with your sister, thrown a little boy off a tower just because he caught you having said sex, or killed the king you were sworn to protect,” he said.

“No, but I killed a lot of good people, including Tony’s dad. And I helped Hydra almost take over the world with Project Insight. If Steve hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t made me remember… And I almost killed him, too. Would have, if I hadn’t broken through the brainwashing at the last second.” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the book, refusing to meet Clint’s.

“And you just said the magic word,” Clint told him. “Brainwashing. _You_ didn’t do all those things. Not really. The real you, the guy sitting right in front of me, wouldn’t have made those choices. You know they were wrong. But you weren’t in control. Yeah, your body did bad things, but it wasn’t like you actively chose to do them. It’s like… if someone took over the mind of a man and made him kill a kitten, would you blame him, or would you blame the person that made him do it? I…” Clint stopped, then forced himself to go on. If anybody needed to hear about what had happened with Loki, it was Bucky. This conversation proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“I was taken over by Loki. Steve probably told you, when he told you about the Battle of New York. What I did, what I helped Loki do? It was wrong. All kinds of wrong. End of the world wrong. Because of my actions, Phil died, or, well, I thought he’d died. We almost lost half the Avengers, and with them the battle and the planet. I helped build the thing that opened the portal for the aliens Tony almost killed himself to stop. A lot of the blame for what happened that day can be laid at my feet.

“But it wasn’t really me that did it. It was Loki, controlling my mind. I know what I did was wrong, but at the time, I wasn’t me. Nobody blames me for what happened. You can ask them, they’ll all tell you it wasn’t my fault. Do I feel guilty? Absolutely. I should have fought Loki harder, been strong enough to resist his control. But the fact is that I wasn’t. And so I was controlled, brainwashed into doing whatever that bastard wanted me to do. And when I got free, I did everything in my power to bring the asshole down.

“It’s the same thing with you. Hydra had you, experimented on you, tortured you. At some point, they broke you. What you did after that is on them. They were the ones pulling the strings. But now you’re behind the wheel again. And you did some pretty spectacular damage to Hydra, if the photos Steve and Sam sent back are to be believed.”

Bucky frowned, obviously thinking it over. “So, you’re saying it’s not my fault, and beating myself up about it isn’t going to help? I should just… let it go and focus on trying to do the right thing here and now?”

“Yep.” Clint nodded. It was a point he’d struggled to realize for months after the battle. Finally, Nat had sat him down and made him talk it out with her, and he’d come to see the truth of the matter. The only thing he was guilty of was letting what had happened eat away at him until it got in the way of the present.

“Huh.” The ex-assassin gave him a sort of sad grin. “Thanks. I… I’m not sure I believe you, but I’ll think about it.”

 

They talked about it some more, several times, over the next few days. Clint only ever got the bare bones of what Bucky had done as the Winter Soldier, but even that was chilling. Still, everything he’d said held true- none of it had been Bucky. His body had done it, sure, but his mind hadn’t really been there. Clint didn’t think he was any good as a therapist (that was for Bruce and Sam,) but it seemed like what he was saying helped.

They also had some good discussions about Game of Thrones, and the second book, once Bucky started it. Bucky wouldn’t watch the show with him, claiming it was something he wanted to do with Steve, but he didn’t mind hashing out what he wanted to happen to various characters.

Jon Snow was a favorite of both men. Clint was a proponent of the theory that the bastard was actually the child of Eddard’s sister and the Targaryen prince. Bucky was vehemently against the idea, rather claiming he was Eddard’s child with a former lover, someone he’d had to abandon to do his duty to his new wife. The argument kept them going for a few days, each scouring the internet for resources to back up their claim. It was actually starting to edge into the ridiculous by the fourth day after Steve left. Thankfully, a distraction showed up- in the form of the Norse god of thunder.

Clint took the opportunity to introduce his charge to the Asguardian, and implement the beginnings of a plan he’d started forming after learning Phil was alive. While Tony was off showing Thor his new apartment, the archer sat down at the kitchen table with a screwdriver and pulled the hearing aid from his left ear.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, looking at the small device. Clint hated how everything sounded off, coming in through only one ear. “What’s that?”

“Hearing aid,” Clint explained, tapping the one he was still wearing. “And I’m giving myself a reason to go to SHIELD HQ.”

“Okay… how?” the ex-assassin asked, and Clint fought back a surge of annoyance. He liked Bucky, he really did, but he’d been living in his pocket for five days, and it was starting to get a little much. He was a loner and an introvert. He needed time to himself, which was why Thor’s arrival came at the best possible time- Clint could leave him to look after Bucky for a day or two, go get some answers, and have some of the alone time he was craving.

And Thor would do a fine job with keeping the man company- they had hit it off right away. (Clint privately thought it would be almost impossible for anyone _not_ to like Thor. Well, besides Loki, that is.) His presence would keep Steve and Fury happy, Bucky would get someone new to talk to, and Thor could form his own opinions about Steve’s closest friend. It was a win-win for everyone.

“Like this,” Clint used the screwdriver to pry open the back of his hearing aid and expose the wires inside. Then, he carefully pulled a few loose, and put the back back on. When he stuck it back in his ear, it gave a sharp whine, causing him to wince and tug it out again. “And now I’ve got a faulty device, which SHIELD has to replace. I’ll take it in, get someone to fix it up, and while I’m in the building I’ll stop by to have a friendly chat with our new director.”

“Won’t they know you did that yourself?” Bucky wanted to know, which was a reasonable question, Clint told himself.

“Maybe. But there’s all kinds of ways those wires could have come loose. Maybe the last battle damaged it a little, and when I dropped it this morning it shook everything up.” He stood up, shoving the damaged thing into his pocket. “I’ll stop by Thor’s floor and ask him to come down to hang out with you while I’m gone.”

Bucky made a face, and Clint laughed. “I know, you don’t need a babysitter. But let’s just keep Fury happy, ok? Makes my life a little easier.” He took his leave then, explaining his errand as quickly as he could to Tony and Thor. Tony promised to make him some Stark Tech hearing aids that wouldn’t get rattled in battle, which made the whole plan seem that much better. Then Clint was on his way to DC, ready to get some answers.

 

Agent Hill was outside the Director’s office, when Clint made his way up to it. She watched him approach, tapping her pen against her desk.

“I’d like to see the Director,” Clint told her, coming to a stop right in front of her. Her desk was the only thing visible between him and the door to the office, but he was certain at least ten separate security measures would prevent him from getting to it if they really didn’t want him to.

“Director Fury is out in the field,” Hill said, giving him her best ‘you’re an idiot’ look.

“No,” he shook his head. “Not Nick. I want to talk to Director Coulson.”

Hill narrowed her eyes at him. “Let me guess, Sergeant Barnes?”

Clint shrugged. “Maybe it was Tony. Or maybe Natasha told me. You people aren’t as good at keeping secrets as you like to think you are, you know.”

“Uh-huh. I suppose it could have been Stark, seeing as how it was a modified form of _his_ virus that helped a hacker get into our system a few days ago.” The agent didn’t look convinced.

“You had a hacker? That sucks,” Clint said, not bothering to pretend surprise.

Hill looked unimpressed by his lack of effort. “Yeah. And, funny thing, the only files he seemed interested in were the ones on Phil Coulson. Combine that with you showing up asking to see him, and, well, I guess we know where to look for our hacker. Skye’s going to be mad I figured it out after she couldn’t trace him.”

“Whatever. Just let me in to talk to him, alright?” He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Sorry. He’s out in the field. I don’t know when he’ll be back.” Hill grinned, and Clint thought of the hashtag Nat had put on the now-infamous “Disney Princess” post- #sorrynotsorry. If a tone of voice could have a hashtag, that would be the one for Hill at the moment.

“That’s fine. I’m having some tech repaired, and it’ll be a while. I can wait.”

“He’ll probably be a long time.”

“I don’t have anything to do right now. How about I go sit in his office so you don’t even have to call me to tell me when he gets back?”

“Director Coulson is a busy man, I doubt he has time for a quick chat.”

“Good, because I wasn’t planning on a quick chat.”

“You know I can have you disciplined for this, right?”

“I don’t care. I’m going to see him.”

“Barton-”

“No. I’m going to wait right here until he comes back. However long it takes.” Clint grabbed a chair from one of the unoccupied desks and turned it to face Hill, planting himself firmly in the seat. Hill opened her mouth to reply, when the door behind her swung open, revealing… Phil. Phil Coulson, alive and, to all appearances, well.

“It’s ok, Maria. He can come in.” Phil watched Clint, and Clint wasn’t sure how to read the expression on his face. He could have been happy to see him, or upset at being found. Well, whatever the man was feeling, Clint was going to find out. And then, unless he gave him a very good reason not to, he was going to go right back to New York and tell the whole team Phil was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcannon: Bucky and Nat have discussed A Song of Ice and Fire, and have a _really detailed_ plan for how to torture Cersi and destroy the entire Frey line. Bucky’s favorite character is Arya, because she reminds him of young Steve. Nat’s is Dany, because dragons. Tony likes Tyrion, which Steve thinks is because he’s kind of like Tony in the devious genius kind of way.   
>  \-------------
> 
> Summary of the chapter:
> 
> Steve is sent on a mission, and Clint is left in charge of watching Bucky. Bucky takes the opportunity to reveal that he knows Phil Coulson is alive (because he was almost a victim of the Winter Soldier) and ask Clint about him. Clint calls Natasha, who tells him she's too busy to talk, but seems to know something.
> 
> After that, they discuss a character of GoT's possible redemption, as a proxy of talking about whether or not Bucky can be redeemed for what he did as the Winter Soldier. Clint tries to assure him that everything he did as the Soldier wasn't his fault.
> 
> Then Thor shows up, and Clint takes the opportunity to go to DC and try to see Phil. At the end of the chapter, he is brought into Phil's office, ready to get answers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor is surprisingly hard to write. His world-view is very different from most of the other characters, and his syntax is difficult to get correct. But here he is, finally!
> 
> Also: This chapter was written under the influence of muscle relaxant, so I apologize for any weirdness. Since the series is un-betaed, all mistakes are my own. If there's anything really glaring, please let me know, and I will fix it. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!

When Thor arrived in the city of New York for the first time since the battle, he was not certain what to expect. The man of iron, Anthony Stark, had left a message with Jane, offering him a ‘second home’ in a tower he had recently completed. The offer was generous, including Jane and her team as well. Anthony had seemed a generous sort before, but this was a great and unexpected kindness. Thor was inclined to accept the offer, the benefits of a home on Midgard far outweighing any reservations he might have. And so he had left Jane in her London apartment and promised to return when he had made a decision.

He landed on the balcony of the top floor, uncertain whether he would be able to enter the building from the roof. Through the glass wall he could see a man he did not know lounging on the couch, while Clinton Barton- the archer also called Hawkeye- sat across from him, immersed in the handheld device Jane had told him was called a ‘cellphone’. Both men looked up when he landed, and the unknown man appeared suspicious until Clinton waved and said something. He then watched Thor approach with icy blue eyes, and Thor sensed something of the warrior about him.

Clinton grinned when he opened the door. “Hey Thor! Where’ve you been?”

“Asgard,” Thor replied. “Assisting my people in their efforts to recover from the attack of the Dark Elves.” He didn’t mention Loki’s funeral. Whatever he’d done, he still had loved his brother, and his loss was grievous. But Clinton had only known Loki as an enemy, and would likely only find contentment from learning of his demise.

“We’d heard. Sorry, man. But congratulations on not letting the universe get destroyed.”

That brought a snort from the unknown man, who laughed when Thor and Clinton both looked at him. “Sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe you said that with a straight face. And, you know, actually _meant_ it. I mean, who even says stuff like that?”

Clinton shrugged. “Apparently, me. You’ll get used to it soon enough. Can’t believe you didn’t hear your fair share of similar stuff, what with being with Cap in the war and all.”

Thor frowned, confused. Captain Steven Rogers had been in a war, he knew that well enough, but that had been at least seventy years previously. While that was mere seconds to Thor, to a human it was at least half a life span. If Clinton was implying the stranger had been with Steven in the war, it posed more than a few questions.

“Nope,” the stranger shook his head. “Schmidt wanted to destroy _America_ , which was pretty much par for the course back then. Nobody ever said anything about the whole universe.”

“Then your enemies obviously weren’t thinking big enough,” Clinton told him, and was rewarded with a disgusted look.

“Perhaps,” Thor suggested, “destroying your country was just an initial step in their plans. If they had succeeded, it may be they would have then set their sights on the universe.”

“Oh god. _That_ would have been a disaster. The Red Skull in charge of the universe? No, thank you.” The stranger shook his head.

“The Red Skull?” The name rang a bell for Thor. “That was the name of Captain Steven’s old enemy, correct?”

Clinton smacked himself on the head. “Right, sorry, I forgot. Thor, this is Sergeant James Barnes, Steve’s best friend and formerly brainwashed assassin. It’s a long story. Bucky, this is Thor, the guy we’ve all been telling you about.”

“Yeah,” James nodded, “I’d kinda gathered that.” He stood, offering Thor a hand in greeting. After a moment’s hesitation, Thor took it and was surprised by the strength of the man’s grip. “Nice to finally meet you, Thor.”

“Likewise, James,” Thor said, and watched the man make a face.

“Call me Bucky. James is what my mom always called me when I was in trouble,” he explained.

“Then, it is a pleasure to meet you, Bucky.” Thor watched the man sit back down, and noted that his left arm appeared to be made of some sort of metal. He moved with an unconscious grace that spoke of skill in physical combat, and Thor had not failed to catch the way his eyes had flicked across his body and down to the hammer at his side- assessing for possible danger. Clinton had said ‘formerly brainwashed assassin.’ He wondered if the ‘formerly’ applied only to the term ‘brainwashed.’ He was deciding whether to ask, when the doors in the opposite wall slid open with a ‘ding,’ to reveal Anthony.

“Thor!” the man of iron cried, arms wide as if to invite a hug.

“My friend, it is good to see you,” Thor responded, gripping his hand and pulling him into a swift hug.

“What took you so long? Darcy texted Pepper to tell her you’d been back for a week already!” Anthony asked, once released.

Thor shrugged. “Jane requested my company.”

Anthony grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “Say no more, my friend, say no more. I completely understand. You should bring her to New York, we’ve got room for her in the tower already. Hell, bring Darcy and that intern of hers too! We’ll be one big happy family!”

Bucky laughed again. “You making a people collection or something there, Tony? I mean, the Avengers I understand. But then you’ve got me, and Bruce might bring his girl, and now Thor’s people. You gonna offer Sam a place in the tower next?” His smile was good-natured, which removed any sting from his words.

“Once his room’s done, yeah,” Anthony told him, “With all he’s done for Steve, he’s practically family.”

“Who is this Sam?” Thor asked. He felt like he had missed a lot, in the months he had been away from Midgard.

Clinton and Bucky shared a look. “Long story,” they said in unison, then glared at each other. And then grinned. Thor was not entirely certain what had happened.

“Well, speaking of stories, Thor! Want to see your floor?” Anthony asked.

“You really should, you know,” Bucky told him. “He’s been pouting since I got here, wanting to show you that apartment.

“I have not!” Anthony said, only to be met with raised brows from both Clinton and Bucky. “Ok, fine, maybe I pouted _a little_. But it’s perfectly justified. It’s a _really nice_ apartment!”

“Then I would like to see it,” Thor said, and allowed Anthony to lead him to the elevator.

As it happened, Anthony was correct in saying that it was a really nice apartment. More than an apartment, really, it was an entire floor of the tower. It had personal living quarters for himself, Jane, Darcy, her intern, and Erik Selvig. There was also a rather large laboratory and office set up for Jane’s work, and an open space set aside for entertainment, complete with all the latest in Midgardian technology.

“And then, there’s this,” Anthony told him, after he had a chance to take it all in, and tossed him a small silver bracelet. He held up his own, and tapped it once. The whole wall- a glass window that looked out over the city- slid down into the floor. “This way, you can fly around all you like and land right here in your own home.”

“I thank you,” Thor said, at a loss for words. He had never expected such generosity. “This is truly more than I could have hoped for. How can I ever thank you, my friend?”

“Eh,” Anthony dismissed his thanks with a wave of his hand. “It’s not much, just a little thank you, for helping us save the world and all.”

Before Thor could come up with an appropriate response, the doors to the elevator opened, and Clinton stepped out. He had a strange device in his hand, and grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry to do this to you guys, but my hearing aid got rattled on my last mission, and I guess it just decided to give up the ghost this morning. Thing’s dead, so I’ve got to take it in to get replaced. Can you two watch Bucky while I’m gone?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Anthony was instantly at Clinton’s side, picking up the tiny electronic thing and peering at it. “It doesn’t look damaged.”

“Yeah, but there’s-“

“Yeeouch!” Anthony had put it in his ear, but pulled it out immediately. “Ok, I see what you mean. Want me to take a look at it?”

“No,” Clinton shook his head. “It’s SHIELD special issue. I’ve got to take it to the main office to get a replacement. Thanks, though.”

Anthony frowned at him. “Well, it looks like pretty shoddy work, to me. You need one for both ears, yeah? How about I whip something up for you down in my lab?”

The archer shrugged. “You don’t have to. SHIELD has too replace it anyway. And it gets me out of the tower. I’ve been stuck here for five days. Next time Steve’s on a mission, someone else gets babysitting duty.”

“Hmm…” the man of iron was now running his fingers over the device, looking for something Thor could not begin to guess at. “Alright. But I’ll have a pair waiting for you when you get back. No sense in you being stuck with SHIELD’s substandard shit when I can build you a top of the line model.”

“Thanks, Tony. But, about Bucky-“

“I would be happy to look after Captain Steven’s friend,” Thor offered. “If one of you might inform me as to why he needs watching?”

“Thanks, Thor,” Clinton said. “It’s more that Fury wants us evaluating his mental state and fitness potential safety risk.”

“I’ll tell him the whole story,” Anthony told him, tossing the hearing aid back into his hands. “You go.”

“Thanks,” Clinton said again, and was gone.

After the elevator doors closed behind him, Anthony shook his head. “He’s up to something. Damned if I know what it is, though. I guess he’ll tell us soon if something happens.”

“Why would you think that,” Thor asked.

“Well, that hearing aid wasn’t so much ‘damaged in battle’ as it was ‘pried open with a screwdriver,” Anthony told him. “Something’s up, he’s looking for a reason to go to SHIELD HQ.”

“Would this have anything to do with the man uptairs?” Thor wanted to know. Anthony shrugged.

“Maybe? That’s a mess and a half. I hope not though, Steve doesn’t need something else piled on him. He’s been through a lot recently.”

“Is the captain well?” Thor asked, worried. He hadn’t seen Steven, and people had mentioned he was away on a mission, but Anthony seemed rather worried about him.

“Well, he’s ok. About as well as can be expected, really, considering. Come here, let’s sit. It’s a long story.” Anthony sank down onto one of the couches in the living space, gesturing for Thor to take the one opposite.

He complied, interested to hear what had happened in his absence. “Would this perchance be related to a disturbance in your Washington city recently? Jane mentioned she was concerned one of our teammates had been involved.”

“Yeah,” Anthony nodded. “Yeah, it did. That was Steve. See, SHIELD had a secret group in it, some of Steve’s old enemies from back in World War II. They were using its resources to try and take over the world, and kill off anyone who could be a threat. Steve found out and stopped it, but they sent an assassin after him. It turns out that that assassin was his old war buddy, Bucky Barnes, who they’d brainwashed and kept in suspended animation when they weren’t sending him out to kill people.

“Then, in the final battle, Steve was able to break through that brainwashing, and Bucky saved his life. Then ran away. He spent a few months trying to remember who he was, and Steve spent those months chasing after him. Eventually they caught up to him, but Steve was attacked by a Hydra scientist who gave him something they thought was an antidote to his super-soldier serum. Lucky for us, it didn’t work, it just made him really sick. But Bucky came back in order to make sure he was taken care of, and has been here ever since. I’m pretty sure Steve made him promise not to leave again.”

“I see. And Director Fury wishes us to evaluate him to establish if he has returned to his right mind or is in danger of falling under our enemies’ control once again?”

Antony nodded. “Pretty much. He pulled Steve out on a mission and asked Clint to keep watch on Bucky. He’s supposed to make a report about it later. Bucky’s fine, mostly. A few issues, but Bruce says that’s normal. So we’re pretty much only looking after him for Steve’s sake- the guy’s terrified of losing him again.”

Thor considered Anthony’s words. He wanted to speak with Bucky again, and get a better look at the man. There was something about him that Thor hadn’t been able to place in their brief interactions, something in his aura.

“And Steven is alright now?” he asked, concerned about his friend and leader. Anthony inclined his head.

“Yeah, for the most part. You’ll see when he comes back. He and Bucky are attached at the hip, so to speak, so you can bet he won’t take too long. The past five days must have been murder for him, I’d bet.” Anthony stood. “Come on, let’s go babysit the Winter Soldier.”

Thor followed him to the elevator asking, “The Winter Soldier is Bucky’s title?”

 

Uptairs, Bucky greeted Thor and Anthony with a cheerful wave. “Hey guys. I guess Clint told you what’s up? Which one of you gets to take over babysitting duty?”

“That would be him,” Anthony pointed to Thor. “I’m just dropping him off. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

“Let me guess, working on a new hearing aid for Clint, right?” Bucky asked, and Anthony nodded.

“You got it, Snowcone. And a little tinkering on that new arm for you. Might even have it done next week, if we’re lucky and no world-shattering emergencies come up.”

“So, I’ll get it sometime next year, right?” Bucky said.

Anthony laughed. “Heh, something like that. We’re about due for another super-villain to show up around here. It’s been, what, two months since we had a big city-wide battle? The last one was… the Parker kid, right? Hey, maybe we should try to recruit him into the Avengers.”

“You really do collect people, don’t you?” the man on the couch said, and Thor focused his gaze on him, to see his aura. It flickered around him, tinted with joy. He was enjoying teasing Anthony.

“Well, I do seem to have a fondness for museum pieces,” Anthony shot back. “Considering I keep you and Steve around.”

“Go back to your lab, Stark,” Bucky told him. “Or I’ll show you ‘museum pieces’.”

Anthony snorted, but turned towards the elevator. “Sure. One of these days you and I are gonna gave to go a few rounds, see who’s stronger.”

“I bet you ten bucks Steve breaks it up before either of us throws a punch,” the other man said.

“Done. Let’s wait until you’re cleared by Fury though, or Steve might actually kill me.” Anthony stepped into the elevator, and let the doors slide closed. Thor examined his new charge. The aura around him was unique, jagged edges and smooth lines mixed together. It spoke of a man out of time, in the same way Steven’s aura did. And that was what he’d noticed before- their auras were similar. He couldn’t be sure, but they might even have a bond between them. Something more than warrior-brother or friend. Thor decided he would watch, when Steven returned. For now, he would get to know this man, this potential teammate, who was looking at him with curiosity in his eyes.

“So you’re my babysitter?” Bucky eventually asked. Thor nodded, taking a seat.

“I am indeed. I am told I should be watching you to see if you are in danger of returning to your enemies.”

Bucky shrugged. “I figured it was something like that. Don’t worry, I’m all here.” He tapped his head in a gesture Thor assumed meant he was in his right mind. “I wouldn’t let myself be near Steve if I wasn’t.”

“Why?” Thor wanted to know.

“Because he was my last target. Hydra sent me to kill him. I nearly succeeded, too, but he managed to break through the conditioning I’d been under.”

“I see,” Thor understood. “You would not allow yourself to be near him, if you presented any danger to the captain.”

“Exactly.” Bucky watched him with open curiosity, eyes tracking his movements as he settled in to Steven’s living room.

After a time, when the silence became almost too much, the man broke it with a question. “They say you’re a god. Are you really?”

“No,” Thor shook his head. “Though, in my youth, I thought perhaps I was. I am merely a man, just as you. Among my people, my abilities are nothing extraordinary.”

“Huh.” Bucky continued to watch him. “Is it magic? What you do, with the hammer?”

Thor had explained it to Jane once, and used the same explanation now. “Some people would call it magic, others science. To us, it is one and the same.”

“So everybody from your planet can…?” the man made a gesture obviously meant to indicate Thor’s powers with Mjolnir.

“No,” he told him. “Everyone is different. Some have great strength, like myself. Others have power over illusion, or fearsome skill with a sword. My brother could use what you would call magic, and used it to get me into quite some trouble when we were young.”

“Your brother is… Loki, right? The one from the… thing, here, a few years back?” Bucky asked, his attempts at delicacy kind but unnecessary.

“Aye. Loki was power-mad, and believed me to be the cause of his troubles. Therefore he decided to take his revenge by destroying the world I love. He caused a great deal of grief, and for that I am sorry.” Thor looked down. Loki had done many horrible things, but he had still been his brother. And now he was gone.

“It’s not your fault,” Bucky told him. “He did what he did on his own.”

Thor sighed. It was a nice sentiment. Bucky seemed a kind man. “And yet, if I had bothered to notice his growing discontent, perhaps I could have stopped all this before it happened.”

Bucky snorted. “Bullshit. You sound just like Steve. You can lose yourself in ‘maybes’ all you want, it ain’t gonna change what happened.”

“Wise words,” Thor said, because it was true. ‘Maybe’ wouldn’t bring Loki back any more than revenge had brought back their mother.

The former assassin grinned. “I have my moments.”

They sat together in silence for a while longer, though perhaps it was no longer so awkward. And then Thor asked a question that had occurred to him when he’d learned Bucky was Steven’s friend from childhood.

“You were Captain Steven’s companion since childhood?”

Bucky nodded. “Hmm? Yeah. I think I was eight when we met. Why?”

“Was he always so melancholy?” Thor wanted to know. The captain he knew had always seemed sad, even when he smiled. Thor had always wondered what had caused such soul-deep pain, but had been hesitant to ask.

“No. No, he wasn’t. I mean, he was kinda serious sometimes, but never outright ‘sad’, even when he was sick.” Bucky shook his head, and now he was the one that looked sad.

“And when he was in the war?”

Again, Bucky shook his head. “He didn’t like hurting people, but he knew what we were doing was important, protecting people, _saving_ people. Sometimes it got to him, the compromises we had to make, but in the end he was still the same. I guess… it must have been waking up in the future, alone, that did it to him. Unless something happened after I fell, and was captured.”

“Ah,” Thor thought maybe he understood. “He lost the person closest to him, when you were presumed dead.”

“I guess so. It’s not like I was around to see.” The man shook his head, looking at Thor with an assessing gaze. “Why are you asking?”

“I simply wish to understand him better. He is a good man, brave and honorable. But he does not let anyone see his heart.”

Bucky closed his eyes. “I know. That’s… that’s not how it used to be. He was always so easy to know, one conversation and it felt like you’d known him forever.”

They let the silence stretch between them again, and Thor contemplated Bucky’s words. He hoped Steven would return soon. From what Anthony had said, their captain had changed since the return of his friend.

“What do you think about Steve?” Bucky eventually asked.

Thor thought carefully before answering. “I think he has been badly hurt by the world, but he has the heart of a warrior, and I do not doubt that he can overcome any adversity. As I said, he is a good man.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his lips. “That he is.”

Thor again shifted his gaze, trying to see more of Bucky’s aura, to understand Steven’s friend. He saw… ah. Not friend, then. Bucky was something more to Steven.

“Will you tell me what he was like, when you were younger?” Thor asked, eager to know more about the man who led him in battle. Bucky obliged, telling stories that ranged over all kinds of topics. The picture he painted was both like and unlike the captain Thor knew, courageous, but unaware or uncaring of his own weakness. The young Steven had seemed to care far more for others than for himself, a trait Thor had noticed in battle- where the captain was always ready to sacrifice his own life for that of another. But he’d also been happy, and when Bucky spoke of his laugh, Thor did not understand- he had never heard Steven laugh.

He had also never seen Steven draw, and so was surprised when Bucky pointed out that all of the art adorning the walls of their apartment had been done by Steve. The drawings were beautiful, seeming to capture the heart of whatever he attempted to sketch. Bucky pulled out a thin black book from under the couch and presented it to Thor, who found familiar faces in it’s pages- images of their companions, done with an eye to detail he could never hope to capture.

There were unfamiliar faces there too, people Bucky identified as the warrior band he and Steven had fought with during their World War. And others, people he and Steven knew now, but Thor had yet to meet. And Bucky. Many of the drawings were of the man. There was a page devoted entirely to his metal arm, which Bucky claimed was done because Steve was frustrated with trying to draw it. He didn’t say how he’d lost the arm in the first place, but Thor could guess. He did not seem self-conscious about it, which was a good thing. Thor had known too many warriors who felt somehow less than themselves after the loss of a limb in battle.

Thor laughed when Bucky told him how he and Steven had met. It sounded very much like an incident he and Loki had gotten into as children, and told him so. “We were visiting my father’s brother, and Loki and I had never been to that place. Loki ran off, and Mother made me go to find him. When I did, he had been cornered by some local boys, who were teasing him, as young boys will. He tried to fight back with his magic, but they were physically stronger than he, and he was not yet trained. I came around the corner, just as three of them jumped on top of him. I pulled them off, and the two of us fought until our parents came. We were in such trouble, but once we were back home, and Mother had cleaned us both up, Loki looked at me and said “I could have rescued myself.”

Thor grinned at the memory, then looked down, a sudden pang of loss catching him unawares. He would never have a time like that again. Loki was gone.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky had noticed his sudden silence, leaning forward with concern written across his face.

“It is nothing, I am fine,” Thor shook his head. He would not burden Steven’s friend with his weakness.

“Like hell. I live with Steve, the _king_ of ‘I’m fine’. I know bullshit when I see it. And that, pal, is _major_ bullshit. What’s up? Worried about your brother? Steve said he was in prison.”

“No,” Thor shook his head. And then, he made an impulse decision to trust this man. He was an outsider to the fight with Loki, and perhaps he would not judge the way those who had fought him would. “I miss him,” he admitted. “Not who he became, but who he was. My younger brother.”

“Yeah. But, you know, there’s always hope you can get him back,” Bucky said. “Look at me, I was so far gone I was trying to kill Steve. And now, here I am.”

“I thank you for the sentiment,” Thor said with a sad smile. “But that is no longer possible. Loki was killed in battle against the Dark Elves, assisting me in taking revenge for our mother and saving our people.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Bucky looked down at his hands. “Do you, do you want to talk about it? I mean, I’m no good at this sort of stuff, but I know it helps to talk, and I’m not, y’know, I wasn’t around when he was attacking, so I’m not gonna think about him like that. Do you want to tell me what he was really like? Before all the crazy?” His words were hesitating, as if he was unsure of himself, but his eyes, when he raised them to meet Thor’s, were understanding and kind.

Thor nodded, touched by the offer. “Thank you, my friend. It has been… hard, knowing that everyone here knows him only as he became, they do not know the boy he was, the brother I mourn.” And so he launched into some tales from their shared youth. He found himself talking of things he had not thought of for years, telling stories he would not have spoken of before the Avengers. It was… good… to remember the Loki he loved, the younger brother he had missed even as they fought each other. And then he talked about the battles, the way Loki had changed, the pain it had caused him to see the things his brother had done. Bucky listened to it all, occasionally asking clarifying questions. And when he finished, the man sat back and thought for a moment, before asking a final question.

“If he came back to you, right now, and asked your forgiveness, would you give it?”

Thor answered without hesitation. “Yes, of course.”

“Why?” Bucky wanted to know, and Thor could not sense any motive beyond simple curiosity behind the words.

“Because he’s my brother,” Thor told him. “That never changed, even when we were fighting.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “I see. Thank you. I think… I think I understand my own situation a bit better now, too.”

“And I thank you. I have not had the luxury of remembering my brother as I knew him, in a very long time.” Thor was grateful. Bucky had given him a precious gift with his understanding, and though the man did not know it, he had won Thor’s loyalty with it.

They spent the rest of the day speaking of events on Midgard since Thor’s departure after the battle in London. He had had much to do, back in Asgard, and had not been able to keep up with events on his beloved Earth. Bucky had been taking the time to catch up with the seventy years he had missed, and could speak with authority on the happenings of the months since he had returned to himself. He was an entertaining companion, with quick wit and a ready supply of humor. Thor was pleased to know him, and did not find any reason for Director Fury or anyone else to be worried about the man. Bucky was struggling to come to terms with his past, but he was no danger to anyone that did not try to hurt Steve.

The thing that became the most obvious, over their time together, was how very much Bucky did care for the captain. Everything he said or did revolved back around to Steven in some way. They were more than friends, closer than brothers. Not yet lovers, Thor thought, but close. Shield-mates who fought and lived for each other. In knowing him, Thor began to know Steven more than he ever had before. And so, he wasn’t all that surprised when the captain returned, and the first thing he did was go straight to Bucky.

Thor and Bucky had been in the middle of a game on a device Anthony called a “playstation”, fighting each other as cartoon characters with strange abilities. It was entertaining, though neither of them were any good at it. Anthony was watching with amusement, while Bruce- who normally spent most of his time in his laboratory- sprawled on the floor with papers surrounding him. The doors to the elevator had opened, and Bucky’s head had shot up. He’d dropped the controller, even though they had not yet finished the round, and stood. Thor turned, to see Steven walk into the room.

Their leader’s face was weary, and his uniform was torn in places. He stood, shoulders slumped, plainly exhausted, but brightened the moment he saw his friend, and Thor’s theory was confirmed. They were connected, the pair of them. Something beyond the bounds of platonic love. Their auras resonated with each other, meshing together as the pair stood close.

Steven smiled when Bucky walked towards him, and Thor had never seen such a smile from his captain. He realized, as he saw them greet each other, Bucky checking the captain over for injury, the captain watching Bucky in something like amazement that he was still there, that he had never seen Steven happy before. But now, now he was seeing the Steven Bucky had spoken of for the past two days- the man with a heart as bright as it was big.

Bucky said something quietly, and Steven looked around, eyes finally landing on Thor. He grinned then, and waved.

“Hey, Thor. Back from Asgard?”

Thor inclined his head. “Yes, my friend. And welcome home. Your shield-mate has been keeping me company until my Jane and our friends arrive.”

Steven blinked, taking a second to parse Thor’s speech- Thor was used to that, it seemed that the people of Midgard sometimes found his syntax strange and often archaic. “Sounds good,” he eventually said. “Buck was good company?”

“Very much so,” Thor told him. And Steven smiled at Bucky again.

“Good. Good. Sorry it took me so long, that mission was intense.”

Bucky frowned, and pushed Steven over to the couches. “Sit. You look like you’re gonna fall over. You’re not getting sick again, are you?”

The captain laughed. “No, Buck. I’m fine. Just tired.”

Thor and the others watched as Bucky mothered Steven, forcing him first to sit, and then to eat. He was only satisfied once the captain had stretched out on a couch, head pillowed on Bucky’s shoulder, and fell into a sound sleep. Anthony caught Thor’s eye, and jerked his head to the balcony before heading outside. After a moment, Thor followed.

“What do you think?” Anthony asked, obviously indicating the sleeping captain and his shield-mate.

“They are clearly very close. I was surprised by the change in Steven, he is far more contented than he had been.”

Anthony nodded. “Yep. Me too. So, what do you think about _them_?”

Thor frowned, not understanding, and the man of iron clarified. “You know, romantically. Steve and Bucky.”

“Ah,” Thor considered. It had become clear there was not an amorous relationship between the two, but from what he had heard over the past few days, and what he had seen of their reunion, both men were clearly attracted to each other. “I believe they share a mutual romantic attraction, however, neither of them have acted on it.”

“Yeah, sad, isn’t it?” Tony asked, and Thor nodded.

“It is. I believe they would make a good couple.”

“Good. I’m glad you see it that way,” Anthony told him. “See, we have a plan.”

“A plan?” Thor wanted to know, slightly wary. Something told him this might be like many of the plans he and his companions had had in Asgard- ones that ended with a usual half success, half failure.

“Yep. The Plan to Make Steve and Bucky Kiss. We cooked it up when we couldn’t stand seeing them making eyes at each other when they think the other isn’t looking. Want to help?”

Thor thought about it, knowing that such plans had a tendency to backfire. However, he also believed that, if the plan succeeded, it would be a good thing. He thought about what Jane would tell him to do. She would likely tell him to “go for it.”

“What do you need me to do?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another frustrating chapter... gah. I'm sorry it feels really forced. Again, still on the pain pills, so if it's a little wonky, that's all my fault. Please let me know, so I can fix it!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, as Tony's shenanigans get off to an unpromising start. :) Thank you so much for reading!!

Steve was glad to be home. In the end, he’d been away a total of seven days, and every single one had found him terrified Bucky was going to be gone when he returned. Every morning, Natasha had reassured him that Bucky would be there. After the second day, when he’d talked about calling, just to check, at least ten times in half as many hours, she’d grabbed his phone and patched him in to the Avengers’ Tower security feeds. The mobile version only had video feeds, but it was enough to be able to pull it out of his pocket and see Bucky laying on the couch, or fixing himself a sandwich, or talking with whoever happened to be in the apartment. Nat told him he was obsessive, bordering on stalker, but Steve maintained it was justified concern. He had admitted that, perhaps, checking every five minutes _was_ a little obsessive, and thereafter limited himself to peeking in on Bucky once an hour. It was lucky that the audio feeds did not connect to any outside sources, or he would have been tempted to listen in to Bucky’s conversations, and that would have been an unconscionable invasion of his friend’s privacy.

The mission had been seven days of hell. Both Natasha and Fury agreed with him on that. But it had been an important one- a Hydra base in Norway that had held many of SHIELD’s secrets and was harboring some of the more dangerous fugitives Fury had been searching for. It had taken the three of them- Steve, Nat, and Fury, three days to clear the base completely, and two more to hunt down most of the escapees. Fury had then ordered Steve and Nat to go home, but be ready should he call on them again. (The remaining two days were spent in transit, which is hell no matter how you slice it.)

So Steve had dragged himself back to the plane, exhausted, wounded, and ready to be home. Natasha had flown them back on autopilot- similarly tired and hurt. They both healed fast though, for which Steve was grateful- he wouldn’t have wanted to worry Bucky with the gunshots he’d taken in the shoulder or side, and Natasha’s wounds required little more than dressing and an aspirin for the pain.

They’d limped inside the Avenger’s Tower, about ready to pass out, to find Bucky in their apartment along with Tony, Bruce, and Thor. Not that he’d noticed the others at first, eyes scanning the apartment for his friend. Even with the video feed, he’d been _so worried_ that Bucky would leave. But there he was, rising from his seat on the floor, ready to greet Steve. He’d frowned at first, and Steve became aware of his general state of disarray, but even that didn’t matter in the face of the warmth that filled him the moment he saw his friend. And then Bucky has smiled, just like he always had when they were kids, and his pain and worry melted away. Bucky was fine, so how could Steve be anything less? He let Bucky bully him onto the couch, where he promptly fell asleep.

He woke, some time later, at the sound of his name.

“Steve looks like hell. Must have been a tough mission,” Tony was saying.

“Yeah. It was too soon, he’s not really recovered from that shit that Hydra bastard gave him last month,” Steve more felt than heard Bucky’s reply, head pillowed on his friend’s chest, ear against his heart.

“It is good he can rest,” Thor said. “He must feel safe with you.”

“Eh,” Bucky shrugged, careful not to disturb Steve too much. Steve kept his eyes closed, comfortable enough he was considering falling back asleep. “It was always like this after long missions. We’d get back, debrief, head to barracks, and Steve would just pass out. The guys always joked he’d hibernate for the winter if he could. Peggy said once it was probably a side effect of the serum- he used energy way too fast, and sometimes that would catch up with him.”

“He slept with you and the other commandos in the room?” someone, probably Bruce, asked, and Steve heard Bucky’s hum of assent.

“Yeah, like a rock. He’d wake up if anyone else came in though. We used to make a game of it, bring friends back, see who he’d wake up for. He’d stay asleep with Howard and Peggy around, but anybody else and he’d jump right up. One time Colonel Phillips got almost to his bunk before he woke up, but when he did he pulled the gun from under his pillow and was ready to fire before he saw who it was. Nobody tried to sneak up on him after that.”

There were murmurs of surprise from their friends, then, and Steve reflected that he’d never really felt comfortable sleeping in front of them before. He trusted them, sure, but it hadn’t been… well, he hadn’t _wanted_ to trust them. Hadn’t wanted to let them in that far. But somehow, somewhere along the line, they’d become family anyway. And now, with Bucky to watch over him, he didn’t have to be constantly on watch- fearful that someone or something would try to take his new family while he slept. He trusted Bucky where he didn’t even trust himself. He’d never thought about it like that before, but there it was.

“Huh.” That was clearly Tony, and he sounded surprised.

Of course, Bucky immediately became defensive. “What?” he demanded. Steve considered opening his eyes and joining the conversation, but he really was tired.

“It’s just, we’ve never seen him actually sleep in front of us before,” Bruce explained, always the soothing voice of reason. “Usually, he waits until we’re all settled. We figured it was something he’d picked up in the war- looking after his men or something.”

Bucky sighed, and Steve felt his hand running through his hair. It was a nice feeling, one he hadn’t even known he was missing, until Bucky came back. There was a lot he hadn’t known he was missing, but the past few weeks with Bucky had brought it all back. It felt… well, it felt a lot like he’d been missing a piece of his soul. Which was romantic and sappy, and not at all a thought he should be having about his best friend (who liked women, not men.) He suppressed the emotion, not even noticing that it was the same kind of feeling he had always pushed away when they were younger, the repression as familiar as an old worn-out sock.

“He changed a lot, while I was… gone.” Bucky said, the silence around them telling Steve that their friends were all listening. “SHIELD didn’t take care of him like they should have, they just woke him up and sent him into battle. Until you guys all came along, I don’t think anyone looked at him as just Steve.”

“And even we failed at seeing just how badly he was wounded inside,” a voice that was unmistakably Thor’s said. “He is our leader, but we were unable to support him where he truly needed us.”

“Yep,” Bucky agreed, and then sighed again. His next words came out far less angry than that one syllable. “But it’s not your fault. He probably didn’t want you to see. He’s not the kind of guy to bleed on anybody, if he can help it. He’d rather take care of himself. He’s just an idiot that doesn’t see he doesn’t have to.”

After that, Steve _had_ to wake up. This wasn’t the kind of conversation he should be eavesdropping on, even if he was _right there_ , and only ‘eavesdropping’ because they all thought he was asleep. So he groaned out a protest and forced his eyes open, even though he really, really wanted to go back to sleep. His effort was rewarded though, when he looked up and saw Bucky smiling fondly at him. He never could get enough of seeing him, alive and well.

“What’s up,” Steve asked, and someone coughed awkwardly. He looked around, to see Natasha, Bruce, Tony, Thor, Bucky, and Pepper all watching him. “Are we having a party?”

“Go back to sleep, Steve,” Bucky told him, gently pressing his head back down.

“’M hungry,” he said, to avoid admitting that, after hearing _that_ conversation, he probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Bucky laughed.

“I think Clint left some pasta in the fridge if you want it. Or there’s sandwiches. Your choice.”

In the end, everyone ended up staying for dinner, which became a large affair cooked primarily by Pepper and Bruce, while everyone else attempted to assist- either with food preparation, or keeping Steve and Natasha from getting up to help. Bucky finally had to sit on Steve’s legs to keep him from trying to be a good host, and Steve threatened Nat with a call to Clint (who was still in DC for some reason nobody really seemed to know) to keep her down.

After the food was consumed, and JARVIS put in charge of the cleanup efforts with the extremely fancy dishwasher, Bucky threw everyone else out. Steve offered Natasha the guest room, noticing that she was as exhausted as he, and probably with as little energy left to get herself to her own apartment (even if said apartment was only three floors below.) Then gratefully followed Bucky into their own room, intending to ask about the conversation he had overheard, and promptly fell asleep. By the time he woke up the next morning, he’d forgotten he’d even heard it.

 

It took another day for Steve to feel back to normal again, but that was fine, because Bucky seemed contented to simply sit on the couch with him and watch through Sam’s list of “Must See Classic Movies.” Sam, as they had both found out, had a fondness for lists. They’d already made their way through his “Disney Movies,” “Pop Culture Must-See,” and “Best Action Movie,” lists, and had another three (“Superhero Movies,” “Important Movies,” and “Recent Great Films”) lined up for when they finished the classics. Steve’s favorite so far was Casablanca, a film he remembered seeing posters for, but they’d never gotten to see- it had come out at around the same time they had both joined the army. Bucky’s favorite was the Wizard of Oz, which they _had_ seen in theaters together. He hadn’t been the biggest fan of it at the time, stating that it was too fanciful, and that if he were Dorothy he would have stayed in Oz. But now, he and Steve both knew what it was like to long for home, and thought maybe they understood the little girl a bit better. She’d had a dream world offered to her, but preferred the hardship of her real life, because even with the trouble, she had her family, and that was worth any amount of pain.

That night, they went to bed, arguing whether to watch Snow White again, even though they’d seen it when it had come out in theaters, _and_ watched it recently, when going through Sam’s Disney list. Steve argued that they should, because, after all, it _was_ on the list. Bucky said twice was enough, and Snow White was an annoying princess anyway. She never did anything but trust strangers and almost die, which was pretty much Steve’s argument against Sleeping Beauty too. So they decided to skip it, and start the next morning with Psycho.

Psycho turned out to be amazing, but rather terrifying. Watching it left Steve with restless energy, which he suggested they work out in the gym. They had a gym in their apartment, but Bucky wanted to try the _obstacle course_ in the basement (and, really, Tony, enough was enough already. Steve didn’t know how he could afford to put this all in the tower, even if he was a billionaire) so they changed into gym clothes, and Bucky herded Steve into the elevator. Of course, knowing their luck, the elevator lost power in-between floors, leaving the pair stuck.

“Sorry, guys,” Tony’s voice echoed over the intercom, “Looks like a short in the system. Nothing to worry about. I’ll have it working again in a few minutes.”

Steve looked up at the emergency hatch, contemplating whether or not he should pry it open and get them both out through the shaft, when the intercom clicked again. “Don’t even think about it, Cap,” Tony told him. “I don’t want you crawling around the elevator shaft when I don’t know what caused the short. There might be a live wire out there, and even you can’t possibly survive a fall from this height, especially after being electrocuted.”

“I could probably make it,” Steve said, but sat down anyway. “I jumped out of the elevator at something like the 30th floor one time, and only bruised my shoulder a bit on impact.”

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Ok, fine, bruised my ribs too. But I was too busy to worry about that at the time.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that again,” Bucky said. “Don’t make me make Tony put a parachute in your next uniform.”

Steve shrugged. “I’ll do it if I have to.”

“Then it’s my job to make sure you don’t have to,” his friend told him, firmly, and Steve shoved that warm feeling away again, hardly even noticing he’d done so.

“Right, because-” he began to protest Bucky being dragged back into battle, when the lights flickered around them and died.

“Damn,” Bucky cursed. “Looks like Stark screwed up. I thought this thing was supposed to be self-sustaining.”

“Bucky, be nice,” Steve chided him. “It’s bound to have a few problems. The whole thing’s only been operational for, what, three months? Four? And it has more tech than the first Stark Tower did that’s untested in a building this size.”

“That’s the building Loki used to power his doom portal thing, right?” Bucky asked, and Steve felt him slide down to sit next to him.

He nodded, then remembered that Bucky probably couldn’t see- unless he could see in the dark. “Yeah. Tony said something about “clean energy” and its being self-sustaining. It was nice, at least, I think it was nice. The bits we saw were kinda wrecked by that point. I think Tony actually kept the Loki-sized hole in the floor, filled it in with some sort of cement or stone or something.”

“Huh. Guess Tony usually knows his power-sources then.” Bucky shifted, and Steve could picture him frowning at the floor.

“Yep,” Steve agreed, and let the comfortable silence grow between them. Privately, he wondered at Tony screwing up something this big, since he normally tested everything out if anyone else was going to use it (he wasn’t so careful about stuff for only himself, but the Avengers and Pepper tried to keep him as safe as possible anyway.)

After about half an hour passed, with no sign of the lights coming back on, or the elevator moving, Bucky spoke up.

“Hey, Steve?” he asked, voice was hesitating, giving Steve a slight feeling of alarm.

“Yeah, Buck?”

Bucky sucked in a deep breath, and Steve frowned. This felt like another serious conversation coming on. His friend sighed, breathing out, and asked his question.

“If someone thought I was dead, someone you knew, someone that cared about me, would you tell them I was alive?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose,” Steve said. “But, if you don’t want me to tell somebody, you only have to ask and I won’t. I mean, I only really know where Peggy is right now, but if I ever ran into the others, if they’re still alive, I wouldn’t… if you didn’t want them to know, you know, I’d-”

“No,” Bucky cut him off. “No, this is just hypothetical. If you knew I was alive, and I hadn’t told that someone, but you knew that person would want to know. Would you tell?”

Steve considered his answer. “Well,” he said slowly, “I suppose that would depend on your reasons for not telling them. If you had a good reason, then no, I wouldn’t. But if it was just that you hadn’t seen them, or forgot or something, then yeah, I might. Why?”

“How about if you didn’t know the reason, if I just… hadn’t said. But you didn’t know why,” Bucky asked, leaning forward. The red emergency light blinked, reflecting off his metal arm and Steve frowned at the red flicker on his bicep.

“What’s this about, Buck?” Steve wanted to know. His friend sighed.

“Just answer the question. Would you tell?”

“I guess… if I didn’t know why, and it was someone who cared about you, I’d think about it. If telling put you in danger somehow, then I wouldn’t. But if it didn’t… I don’t know.”

Bucky shifted again, and Steve could just make out his form in the dim red light- curled tight with his head resting on his knees. He appeared to be thinking, and Steve let him be. Clearly, he was bothered by something, but he would talk about it when he was ready. That had always been his way, and no amount of pushing could change that.

“I hate secrets,” he finally growled. “Especially ones they keep from you.”

“What secrets?” Steve asked, concern growing. He had to admit that he didn’t like secrets all that much either. He’d been on the point of quitting SHIELD before Bucky came back, for just that reason.

“Phil Coulson,” Bucky said, lifting his head so Steve could just see the light of his eyes in the elevator. “He’s not dead. Clint’s in DC trying to figure out why nobody told you guys.”

Steve froze. Then very, very carefully asked “What do you mean, Buck?”

“What I said,” Bucky told him. “Coulson’s alive. I don’t know why they didn’t tell you, or any of the Avengers. But Hydra sent me after him, wanted me to kill him, before pulling me back to take out you and Natasha.”

Steve sat there, stunned at the revelation. Phil was alive? He was important enough that Hydra had wanted to take him out? And nobody had thought to tell his former teammates? If anybody but Bucky had told him, he would have suspected a cruel joke, or a lie. But Bucky wouldn’t joke about something like this. He stood up and pressed the button for the intercom so hard it jammed, the plastic shattering under his fingers.

“Tony, let me out!” he ordered, past caring about things like technical malfunctions. When Tony failed to immediately respond, he stretched, reaching up to find the emergency hatch in the roof.

“Hang on, Cap, just a second…” Tony’s voice called over the intercom, just as Bucky stood to help. A few seconds more, and the lights flickered back on and the elevator whirred to life, descending to the ground floor. Steve all but ran from the box, straight into Clint.

“Whoa there, Cap. What’s the hurry?” Clint asked, at the same time as Bucky grabbed Steve’s arm, calling his name.

“Clint!” Steve looked from Bucky to Clint, and back again. “Do you know about Coulson?”

Clint nodded. “Yeah, actually, that’s what I was here to tell you. I’m guessing you’ve heard?”

“I just told him,” Bucky said, staring defiantly at Clint. “I didn’t know if I should’a, but I don’t like it when people keep secrets.”

“What the hell, guys? Seriously, _what. The. Hell_?” Tony fell out of the second elevator, obviously out of breath. An equally stunned and breathless Bruce and Pepper followed.

“Is Nat here?” Clint asked, looking around at them all. When Steve nodded, Clint frowned. “Good. I’m not saying this more than once. Come on.” He led them back into the elevator.

“Uh, wait, that was just broken a few minutes ago,” Steve said.

“It’s fine now,” Tony told him, pushing Steve inside. “Come on. I need an explanation before I explode.”

“But it-” Steve was reluctant to get back in the thing, but the others crowded him. Bucky gave Tony a considering look, and Steve noticed Pepper frowning at her lover. Maybe Tony had been playing an elaborate prank, one that was put on hold in favor of this bit of earth-shattering news. If so, Steve vowed to be very careful around the elevators in the future. But right now, he had more important things to worry about.

They spilled out into the common space, a large open floor underneath all of their apartments, where they found Thor and Natasha, already waiting.

“I took the liberty of informing Ms. Romanov and Sir Odinson that they were needed,” JARVIS said.

“Thanks, Jarvis,” Tony told the AI, settling in to a chair. Steve, and everyone else, stared at Clint expectantly.

The archer took a deep breath, preparing to speak. Then he paused and looked at his audience, most of whom were still on their feet. “You might want to sit down, guys,” he said. “This is gonna take a while.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, we're at the halfway point in the story! This one derailed a little, but I like the direction it went in enough to keep it. 
> 
> The plan so far is to try and finish writing the next ten chapters sometime within the next three weeks. The final chapter may or may not become a story in its own right- at the moment, it's looking to be that way, but I will keep you updated.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! And for your lovely comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Clint watched his friends settle in around him, and heartily wished someone else was the one to deliver this news. Because it sucked. Like, majorly sucked. He thought maybe he could have taken it better, if there’d been some earth-shattering reason for Phil’s deception, or some emergency that made it impossible to send a message to the Avengers. But no. It was, pure and simple, _administrative oversight_. Goddamn Phil Coulson. And that fucking bastard Nick Fury.

“So, I’m guessing you all know about Phil, yeah?” Clint glanced at the defiant Bucky, shocked Steve, and rather stunned Tony, Bruce, and Pepper.

“Buck just said…” Steve trailed off, obviously dealing with some of his own inner demons. And god, it must suck to be Steve right now. The poor guy was just too good and innocent for some of the shit that went on these days. No matter what happened, he still had his faith in the inherent goodness of people, and, like now, that could come back and bite him on the ass.

“We were, uh, listening. While I tried to fix the elevator. In case, you know, something happened with the power and stuff,” Tony admitted, shifting guiltily. Clint had an idea about what had really been going on (Pepper and Bruce both looked equally guilty and mad at Tony, which was a big clue) and privately decided to have a talk with Tony- they’d decided no locking Steve and Bucky in confined spaces. But that was for another time.

“What is it? What has happened?” Thor asked, more confused than anyone else there. He was sitting next to Natasha, and Clint refused to meet her eyes as his gaze moved to the god of thunder.

“Phil’s alive,” Clint told him. “Loki killed him, but SHIELD brought him back. He’s the director now, while Fury’s still legally ‘dead.’ I just got back from DC, where I had a long talk with him. It’s really him, too. Not some alternate-universe version, or a clone or something. I checked.” He’d done the standard “tell me something only the real Phil Coulson could say,” and had been answered with a lengthy and rather unflattering account of the first mission the two of them had been on together. He’d gotten all the details right too- not only did Phil remember everything, he remembered it all clearly. Hell, he could even still point out the scar on Clint’s side from the bullet he’d taken- the one that had almost convinced Clint that he was going to die before help arrived.

Thor frowned, absorbing the new information. “I see. How did you come to know of this?” he asked, eventually. Everyone else seemed at a loss for words.

“Him.” Clint pointed at Bucky, who shrugged.

“Hydra sent the Winter Soldier after him, after they had Fury killed. I think they thought he was the next in command, which, doesn’t look like they were wrong. I only remembered after Steve talked about his death. And then I had to wonder why Hydra would want to kill someone who was already dead. So I did a little digging, and came up with this file. Um, JARVIS?” Bucky looked up, the way some of them did when talking to the AI. It made it easier than just speaking to a disembodied voice, imagining that it was in the walls or ceiling.

“Yes, sir?” JARVIS answered.

“Can you pull up the file from my computer? The one called “Phil Coulson?”” Bucky blinked as a screen was drawn up out of the floor, and flickered to life.

“Certainly, sir.” JARVIS adjusted the feed on the screen until they could all see several pages of documents clearly from SHIELD files.

“This is what I could find,” Bucky gestured to the screen, pointing to one page in particular- something labeled Project TAHITI. “It pretty much says they brought him back to life and then sent him out on missions. It looks like none of you were the right clearance level to be told at the time, but pretty soon Steve and Clint got Level 8 clearance, which should have let you in on the secret.”

“Right,” Clint nodded. “But we didn’t have any reason to look for those files, and nobody told us. Probably because they knew we’d want to tell the others. And then Project Insight happened, and I think we all know what’s been going on after that. SHIELD had a lot to take care of, with the civil war and all. And it just sort of… slipped their minds to let us in on the secret.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky snorted. Steve looked at him, alarmed.

“Buck! Language!”

“It’s true,” the former assassin answered, glaring. “Seriously. They just ‘forgot’ to tell you all that one of your teammates was actually alive all this time? I’m not buying it.”

“I agree,” Tony spoke up, Pepper’s hand wrapped tightly in his. She nodded, watching Clint for a reaction. “This stinks of a cover-up. And we’re supposed to believe _no one_ knew we didn’t know, or thought to tell us?”

“Well, it looks like _some_ people knew,” Clint said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He carefully avoided looking at Natasha. He still couldn’t decide if he was more angry or hurt that she hadn’t told him about Phil, and he really needed to get a lock on his emotions before trying to have that conversation. “But the general consensus seemed to be that it was Phil’s job to tell us. And after everything got leaked on the ‘net, he just assumed we’d heard. At least on his part, it was really an honest fucking mistake.”

“Some mistake,” Bucky grumbled, and Clint noticed his metal hand was carefully wrapped around Steve’s wrist.

“Why has he not contacted us himself, then?” Thor wanted to know. Clint sighed. Damn Phil. He should have come with Clint, had this talk with them. But no. He had his _job_ to do, had to run SHIELD. No time to spare for old friends who’d been mourning him needlessly for two years. ‘Later’ he’d said. Yeah, right. Later. When there were no more threats to civilization as they knew it, maybe. Or maybe when pigs fly.

“He’s been busy, running SHIELD in Nick’s absence. He’s got his hands full, taking care of the civil war and cleaning up after Hydra. Bucky actually helped a lot with that, all those bases you destroyed. But it’s still a big mess. He didn’t look like he’d been sleeping much lately, and Agent Hill said he’s been pulling a lot of ninety plus hour work-weeks, and I’m pretty sure his team isn’t much better.” Clint didn’t like making excuses for the guy, but he had looked like shit. It was obvious he was working harder than anybody, and it looked like he was taking good care of his team, but still. He understood why the others were upset. Clint was upset too. Workaholic or not, he should have spared some time for his friends.

Tony shook his head. “Nope. Not buying it. That’s been less than a year. Which gave him _over_ a year to talk to us before then. What’s up with that?”

“To be fair, it was Nick’s idea,” Nat said. All eyes turned to her, and Clint clenched his fists. Here was the kicker, the ‘real’ reason Phil had kept away from them. He’d wanted Natasha to be the one to say it, mostly because he really didn’t want to be the one to cause the look of betrayal they were going to see on Cap’s face. It took all the reasons he’d just stated, and rolled them into a ball of orders and bad ideas. Because of Nick _fucking_ Fury.

“You knew,” Steve said slowly, and, yeah, there was that betrayed look. Bucky’s face changed from carefully neutral to outright glaring at Natasha, while the other Avengers echoed expressions similar to Steve’s. “You knew Phil was alive, and you didn’t tell us.”

Nat looked down. Clint thought she might actually be showing honest guilt for once, but it didn’t excuse her. Not for something like this. Orders or not, the Avengers were like their _family_. And, as far as Clint was concerned, family always came first.

“I… yeah. I knew. I figured it out a while back, some mission that involved information from his team. It took a lot of coincidences, but I pieced it together. And then I went to Nick, who said we needed to keep it under wraps. Agent Coulson doesn’t even know that I know. Nick said his death had brought us together as a team, and he didn’t want to jeopardize that. At the time, we weren’t even a year out from the fight with Loki. There was no telling what would happen with us, as a team. He wanted to have an ace up his sleeve, something to rally us when we needed it next. Phil was his plan- bring Phil back, give us common ground in our relief over his being alive. It was a good plan.”

“So, when he ‘died’ and put Phil in charge, he didn’t think now it was time to tell us? That, I don’t know, maybe we’d all gotten to like each other enough to work as a team without some plot to bring us together?” Tony asked, acid coating his words. “Or doesn’t he trust us enough for that?”

“Nick doesn’t trust anyone, you know that,” Nat told him. “We’re Earth’s last line of defense. He needed to know he had a way to make us ready for the next big thing.”

“So Phil didn’t so much ‘forget to tell us’ as Fury ordered him not to,” Pepper observed, glancing at Clint.

“He said he had actually intended to go against that order, right before all the shit went down with Hydra. But then, well, you all know what happened there. He said… he said he didn’t think it would matter so much to us.” Clint had reamed him out for that one. _Of course_ Phil mattered to them. Hopefully the ten-minute tirade he’d given had at least somewhat convinced him of that.

“Fuck.” Everyone started, surprised that the soft sound had come from Steve, who was now covering his face with his hands. “And here I thought Nick was actually starting to trust us.”

Nobody really knew what to say to that. Yeah, Phil hadn’t told them he was alive. But the bigger betrayal was that Fury had made sure they wouldn’t find out.

“God _damnit_!” Tony cursed. Bruce looked like he agreed. Actually, everyone looked like they agreed. There really wasn’t any other appropriate response. Just…damn it. Fuck.

“Is Phil doing ok, though?” Steve asked, after a while, while they all tried to absorb what had happened.

Clint nodded. “Yeah, he is. Tired, working a lot, but I think he’s actually happy that way. He wants to see us, next time he gets a chance. He won’t be going against orders, since we already know. Which, I guess, means we owe a big thanks to Bucky, for figuring it out.”

“Nah,” Bucky actually blushed, a soft red spreading across his cheeks. “I just picked up the pieces of what I knew. You’d’ve figured it out eventually.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said, and the look he gave his friend, all the gratitude and trust and love in that expression was enough to convince anyone how he felt about Bucky.

The gathering broke up soon after that. Or rather, became less tense and formal, as they all dealt with their private thoughts on the matter. Bruce brought out the food he’d been intending to cook for dinner that night, and Thor and Tony attempted to assist him in the cooking. Pepper got a call from the office that she needed to take care of, and Clint went to sit with Steve and Bucky. Natasha hovered on the outside of the group, but this time Clint wasn’t up to being the one to forgive her. He would, he knew he would, but he just needed a little more time to be mad first.

Bucky was attempting to distract Steve with what looked like Tony’s plans for his new arm. It looked like it was working, too, Steve’s eyes lighting up as he asked questions about how it would function. He’d taken the news of Phil’s not-death fairly well, all things considered. Clint wondered what it would take to really surprise him now, since he’d been through so much he would have termed ‘impossible’ back in the 1930’s.

“So, that’s not a bomb, right?” Clint asked, dropping into the conversation. Bucky made a face at him.

“No, Clint. It’s not a bomb. What does it look like?”

Clint grabbed the paper from Bucky’s hands and held it up to examine it. “A bomb. A really weird bomb, but a bomb. Or, y’know, some other big techy device Tony’s cooked up to kill us all in our sleep.”

“I heard that!” Tony shouted from the kitchen area- the open floor plan meaning nothing separated the cooking space from the living space but a few waist-high cabinets.

“You were meant to!” Clint shouted back. “I want you to know that _I_ know about your secret death plans. Plans that it looks like you’ve got Cap and Bucky helping out with now, too.”

“Those aren’t death plans!” Tony protested, abandoning the bowl of… something… he was attempting to stir in favor of coming over to chat. Or, y’know, bicker. But with them, it was pretty much the same thing. “Those are survival plans. For the Zombie Apocalypse.”

“The what now?” Bucky asked, frowning at them. Steve groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“The Zombie Apocalypse. Got to be prepared for the walking dead!” Tony said, earnestly. He took his phone out of his pocket and used it to project some screens into the air, showing several detailed plans. Clint bent over one to inspect it, and found a list of all the materials they would need to keep the tower running, and how many refugees it could house. Trust Tony to think of everything for something as silly as a _zombie_ invasion. Then again, their job did tend to pit them against impossible stuff every day. What was that line from _Alice in Wonderland_? Believe six impossible things before breakfast? Yeah, the Avengers had that covered.

“The ‘walking dead’?” Bucky lifted an eyebrow, turning to Steve, who was now shaking his head in resigned amusement.

“You don’t want to know. Seriously. And if you two start debating the merits of katanas over baseball bats one more time, I’m going to take you both down to the gym and make you test them out.” This last was delivered in his “Captain America” voice, the one he normally used to give them all orders in battle. Clint cracked up. After the week he’d had, that was just the last ridiculous straw.

“Oh gods. I- haha- I think…. Ha, I think I need this to happen,” he said, when he finally got himself under control. Which was how, maybe two hours after revealing that Phil Coulson was still alive, Clint found all the Avengers crowded around the virtual combat simulator in the basement, where Tony (armed with a baseball bat) and Clint (wielding a katana) were about to face off. It seemed like maybe it was something they all needed to happen.

“Explain this to me again?” Bucky asked, from the sidelines where was seated with everyone else. Even Sam had been called over from his new job at the local VA to watch.

“They’ve been debating the merits of fighting with a katana or a baseball bat against zombies for the better part of two years. Last time, it almost ended with Clint falling out the window, and Steve got fed up and promised that the next time it got mentioned, there would be reprisals,” Pepper explained. “Zombies are kind of a big thing in pop culture right now.”

“I’ve got a list of movies, if you want,” Sam offered, and Clint just knew there were going to be a lot of zombie flicks showing up on the Netflix cue for the next couple weeks. “It’s actually pretty fun to come up with a zombie survival plan. The DoD did an exercise on it a while back, and the CDC even came up with a pamphlet on it. Something about how, being prepared for the zombie apocalypse means you’re prepared for everything.”

“No kidding?” Bucky looked like he didn’t half believe what anyone was saying. Clint didn’t blame him, he didn’t know if zombies had even been a thing a half century ago. And even if they were, they probably hadn’t garnered as much attention as they did now.

“Nope. The worst thing is that Sam’s entirely serious,” Steve said, still shaking his head. “On the drive from… where was it? Nebraska? Wherever we were before that base in Wisconsin that you blew up. He spent a few hours of that ride trying to tell me about his survival plan.”

“Hey, it’s a way to pass the time! The guys in my squad used to do it all the time,” Sam protested, looking to launch into another argument on the merits of zombie preparedness with Steve. Clint had seen enough of those arguments between Steve and Tony. He didn’t want to see one with the normally rational Sam. It probably wouldn’t end well.

“Are we going to do this or what?” he asked, raising his katana.

“You know it, Legolas. Just watch me win,” Tony challenged, lifting his bat.

“Alright, boys,” Nat said, from where she controlled the switch- in the general air of amusement, everyone seemed to have forgotten if they were mad at her. Clint didn’t mind, for the most part, he’d forgotten too, until she started speaking. He ignored the feeling, it was more important to have fun at the moment, than to concentrate on holding a grudge. Plus, he had zombies to kill. “Three, two, one, go!” Natasha hit the switch, and the simulator flickered to life, placing Tony and Clint on an abandoned city street, rubble everywhere. A few seconds later, the first zombie popped up, groaning and shambling right for Clint. He swung his blade, slicing through the virtual ghoul, and turned to see five more of the things coming from a building on the edge of the street. After that, it was pretty much aim and swing, and he didn’t even have time to track Tony’s kill count, he was trying too hard not to be overwhelmed himself.

“Ok, Time!” Steve called, after what seemed like forever, but was only twenty minutes.

“I win!” Tony said, panting.

“No way,” Clint protested, looking to the scoreboard, which was still calculating.

“It’s a tie,” Bucky told them, looking at the simulator with speculative curiosity, and Clint just knew he would convince Steve to go a few rounds against the zombies the next day.

“Oh, come on!” Tony groaned, the scoreboard lighting up to show them Bucky was right. “There’s no way. I had to have killed more zombies than that!”

“The simulator doesn’t lie,” Clint said. “Unless you’re saying you built faulty equipment. Is that what you’re saying, Stark?”

“Ok, ok. How about best two out of three?”

“Excuse me, Sirs and Madams,” JARVIS chimed in, breaking up what might have devolved into another argument. “But you have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” Steve asked, as Tony said at the same time,

“Show them in, Jarvis.”

Steve’s question was answered by the door swinging open, to reveal Phil Coulson, still dressed in his work suit, grinning nervously. “Hey guys. Did I miss the party?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, Phil's chapter!!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Please enjoy!

Phil was nervous. Really nervous, as in, really important mission nervous. It was foolish, he reminded himself again. The Avengers would be happy to see him. He just was worried, because they’d thought he was dead for two years. And while he’d had good reasons to not tell them at first, those reasons had quickly flown out the window. In the end, all that had kept him from reaching out to them was Director Fury’s orders, and then the SHIELD civil war. But still, he knew he’d deceived them, deliberately so. And he knew they wouldn’t be happy about that.

But still, he hoped they would forgive him. They were his heroes, after all. He’d grown up idolizing Captain America, and the team that had come together to stop Loki had proved themselves just as worthy of his admiration. They were wonderful, amazing people, who did things normal people couldn’t hope to accomplish. They were also his friends, and he hoped that would be enough to get them to forgive him for the deception.

As JARVIS announced him, he straightened his tie, reminding himself of the things he needed to say- Skye had helped him plan it on the flight from DC. She, and the rest of his team, were really the reason he was doing this. They’d heard about Clint’s visit, and insisted. They told him it wasn’t right, keeping the Avengers in the dark, and, after all, he might need them, now that SHIELD was being rebuilt from the ground up. Their insistence, combined with his own desires, is what pushed him onto the Bus, and told May to set a course for New York.

So here he stood, waiting outside the gym in Stark Tower 2, more commonly known as Avengers Tower, with no idea what to expect when that door opened. They were in there, all of them. He could hear them laughing, and then they all fell silent, and the door opened. And there they were. The Avengers. His heroes. His friends. He said the first thing that came to mind.

“Hey guys. Did I miss the party?”

Tony was the first one to break the silence. “Agent! Come in, come in. We were just playing around with the Zombie simulator. Care to give it a go?”

Before Phil could answer, Thor was standing before him. “Son of Coul. It is good to see you alive.”

“Yeah,” Phil nodded, smiling awkwardly. “It’s good to see you too.” He offered his hand.

Thor took it, and instead of shaking it, pulled him into a brief, tight hug. That seemed to be the signal for all the others to come, crowd around him. Clint just nodded a greeting, having already said all that needed saying back in DC. Natasha waved. Of course, she’d probably known he was alive all along.

Bruce grinned and shook his hand. “It’s good you’re back,” he said, and stepped away to let Pepper through. She had tears in her eyes, and when she stopped in front of him, he was at a loss as to what to say.

Pepper slapped him. Then, she hugged him. “You’re as bad as Tony,” she said, when she pulled away. “Don’t do that to us again.”

“I won’t,” Phil promised her, meaning it.

“You’d better not,” she told him, then moved back, revealing Steve. The captain came forward, staring at Phil. Their eyes met, and Phil was blown away by the depth of emotion he saw there- the grief, and the joy. The joy was new, the grief was not. Two years ago, Phil had been speechless in the presence of his hero, but he’d noticed the intensity of the sadness the man had carried with him. That pain was still there, but now, there was something more. Something that came through as he looked at Phil, and smiled- a real smile, even- something Phil had never seen from him before, in person at least.

“Looks like people keep coming back from the dead around here,” he joked, and Phil grinned in response.

“Looks like. It seems to be a pretty common theme now. You, me, Fury. I wonder who’s next.”

“That would be me,” another voice said, and a man Phil had only seen in old photos and newsreels came to stand beside Steve. Cap turned to look at the man, and his smile widened. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him closer. The newcomer watched Phil warily, eyes evaluating.

“Phil, this is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, my best friend and Howling Commando. Bucky, this is Phil Coulson.”

Phil was once again in the presence of a man he idolized, someone he’d never thought he’d get to meet. He’d read all the comic books, of course, and the biographies, and seen all the movies, but that was nothing on meeting the real thing. The excitement he’d felt, when he’d watched SHIELD defrosting Steve came back to him, full force. Here was another member of Cap’s team, alive and breathing, right in front of him.

“Wow, I- wow. It’s an honor to meet you,” Phil managed to stammer out, extending his hand. Bucky took it and gave it a firm, brief shake, but didn’t smile.

“I wish I could say the same,” he said. “I hear you’re a good guy. But you did let Steve think you were dead for two years.” His eyes were hard, angry.

Phil closed his eyes, feeling like he’d been kicked. It was exactly what he’d expected, but it still hurt. “I didn’t exactly have a choice in that,” he finally said. “And I am sorry. I shouldn’t have kept it from him. From any of you,” he looked at the small group that was gathered around him. “I guess I just didn’t know how to tell you. And then I couldn’t, and when I could it just… it seemed like it was too late. I’m sorry.”

Silence followed his words, and then Tony reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. “Apology accepted. Just don’t do it again.”

Phil looked around, meeting each pair of eyes in the room, and received a smile or a nod from all of them. He felt a weight lift from his chest, the forgiveness finally setting him free of a good amount of guilt. He hadn’t even realized how guilty he was feeling, but to be free of that weight, it was beautiful. Even Bucky inclined his head, as if indicating he understood. Phil had apologized, and been forgiven. With the Avengers, at least, it was that easy. They truly were amazing people.

After his apology, he was quickly drawn into the group. Clint and Tony fell to bickering about their score in the battle simulator against, of all things, zombies. Steve and Bruce stood back beside Phil as Thor weighed in, assuring both men that the results were accurate. Bucky went over to examine the machine, and Phil watched as Steve’s eyes tracked him as he crossed the room.

“Glad to have him back?” Phil asked, for lack of something else to say. Cap blinked, and then nodded, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. He’s... losing him was the worst thing to ever happen to me. Getting him back, it was more than I could have hoped for.”

“I hear it was an adventure.” Phil had heard that. He’d also heard about the Winter Soldier, and his true identity.

Steve shrugged. “I guess it was. Sam and I- Sam Wilson. He’s the one standing over there with Pepper. We tracked Bucky across the country. He took out a lot of Hydra bases, trying to get his memory back.”

“Is he… alright, now?” Phil asked. “Because, if he needs anything, I’ve got a couple of geniuses on my team that might be able to help.”

“He’s fine, for the most part,” Steve told him. “He’s not exactly the same man I remember, but I wouldn’t expect him to be. I’m pretty sure I’m not the same guy he remembers either.”

“Yeah,” Phil nodded. He understood. “Death, or, well, near-death, it changes you. Something that traumatic, it leaves a mark.”

“Phil…” Steve was eyeing him, an unreadable expression on his face. “You really died, didn’t you? Not presumed dead or frozen like Bucky and me.”

Again, Phil inclined his head. “They told me it was eight seconds. But it was days. They had a program, something we’d been developing to bring back one of you, if something happened to kill an Avenger. I’d… I’d been the head of that program. I don’t remember it, but there’s a video of me telling Nick to scrap the program. He didn’t, he used it to bring me back instead.”

“Sounds like something he’d do,” Steve observed. “I’m glad he did though.”

“Most days, I am too,” Phil agreed.

Steve didn’t really have anything to say to that, just gently squeezed his shoulder. He knew what Phil meant, probably more than anyone else ever could.

 

Later that night, Phil was relaxing with most of the Avengers upstairs in the common area, when Bruce rushed in, looking a little frantic. Everyone immediately tensed. Everyone, that is, except Tony, Steve, and Bucky, who were nowhere to be seen.

“We’ve got to stop Tony!” Bruce panted, resting his hands on his thighs as he panted, as if he had just come running from the labs.

“Oh no. What’s he done now?” Pepper asked, already moving for the elevator. Clint and Thor were right behind, and the new man, Sam, followed with Natasha.

“Well, since his last plan, with the elevator, didn’t work out so well, he’s trying again. He just asked them to go down to the big freezer to get the steaks for tonight’s dinner, but he’s planning on locking them in.”

“Dammit, Tony!” the usually mild-mannered Pepper cursed. “I thought we told him ‘no locking them in enclosed spaces!’”

“What’s going on?” Phil asked, following Sam into the elevator.

“It’s Tony’s “Plan to Make Steve and Bucky Kiss.” Which, if you ask me, needs a better name. He tried to lock them in a malfunctioning elevator this morning, but it didn’t work out the way he’d hoped- Bucky spilled the beans on you being alive, instead of professing his love to Steve. So it looks like Tony’s trying again.”

“It’s not gonna work,” Clint observed. “Neither of them like enclosed, cold places much. They’ll freak and break down the door before they confess to each other. If Tony would just stick to the damn _plan_ , but no, he gets _ideas_.”

“Wait… you guys are in on the plan too?” Phil was answered by a series of affirmatives.

“You can’t tell me it’s not obvious. They’re totally in love,” Clint said.

“Aye, they are bound together,” Thor agreed. “We plan to show them the truth they have so far been blind to.”

“And… how, exactly?” Phil asked, putting aside the idea of Steve and Bucky being in love to examine later. Sure, they’d been awfully intimate together, and the look on Cap’s face when he watched Bucky was nothing short of admiring, but… huh. That was definitely something to think about.

“Well, we’re pretty much focused on really blatant hints,” Natasha chimed in. “And teaching Steve Russian incase Bucky slips and says something when he thinks Steve won’t understand.” She’d been unusually quiet, even for her, since Phil had arrived, but now she seemed to warm up. “But so far, it hasn’t seemed to be working. We’re pretty sure Bucky knows how he feels about Steve, but Steve doesn’t know how he feels about Bucky. We’ve talked about resorting to other measures, but hadn’t made any definite plans. Tony obviously thought we were moving too slowly.”

The elevator dinged, letting them all out into what Tony called the “Control Room,” where they found the billionaire sitting in front of the computer console, watching Steve attempt to open what appeared to be a large, reinforced steel door.

“Hey guys,” he swiveled his chair around to face them as they entered. “You’re just in time. Steve and Bucky just found the right freezer. Once they’re inside, I’ll lock the door. And then they’ll have to huddle together for warmth while I ‘repair the short’ and we all know what should happen next!” He seemed pleased with himself, expecting praise for his actions.

“Tony.” Pepper marched forward to stand in front of her lover, and Phil resolved never to get on her bad side- the lady’s expression alone was enough to frighten him. And he’d been in a gunfight with Hydra. “No. This is a bad idea.”

“Oh, come on, Pepper!” Tony protested looking at the screen. Bucky had pushed Steve aside and opened the door, and was now holding it for Steve to go inside. Bruce and Pepper each grabbed one of Tony’s hands before he could touch any of the controls.

“No, Tony,” Bruce said calmly. “It’s not.”

“But it _is_!” Tony insisted. “It’s going to work. Just watch!”

“No,” Natasha shook her head, moving into Tony’s line of sight. “No it isn’t. Think about it, Stark. Steve was frozen in ice for almost seventy years. James was cryogenically frozen in-between missions. And where are you trying to lock them? The freezer. With all that ice.”

“Oh,” Tony looked shamefaced. “Right. Bad memories. But still, what if working through those bad memories-”

“No, Tony,” Pepper said firmly. On the screen, Phil watched Steve and Bucky emerge from the freezer, each carrying several large steaks.

“It’s too late anyway,” he told Tony. “Steve and Bucky are on their way back up.”

“We should go back. Don’t want them to get suspicious,” Sam suggested. Pepper and Bruce let go of Tony’s hands.

“Guys,” Tony said, watching the two super soldiers leave the camera’s line of sight. “Ok. Who told on me?” He frowned at them all in turn. Everyone looked at Bruce, who shrugged.

“I didn’t think I could stop you on my own.”

“Betrayal. I expected better of you.” Tony sulked. He sulked all the way back upstairs, where they arrived back in the common area scant seconds before Steve and Bucky showed up with the meat for their meal. He continued to sulk as Steve and Sam assisted Bruce in preparing the food, only breaking his sulk to watch Bucky, who was watching Steve.

Phil followed Tony’s gaze and watched Bucky himself. Over the course of the evening, as first Clint, then Steve, and finally Bucky tried to joke Tony from his self-indulging mood, Phil watched Bucky and Steve. They moved around each other with easy familiarity, as if seventy years apart had changed little about their interactions. And they watched each other, when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Phil was reminded strongly of the way Fitz watched Simmons, with fondness and a longing for something more. It was certainly food for thought.

That night was amazing. Being with the Avengers gave Phil the same feelings he got around his team- a feeling of family. They accepted him back, and while there were a few awkward questions and conversations, for the most part, it was easy. They were teammates, friends. They all cared about one another, and that included Phil. He hadn’t thought it was like that, but it turned out, it was. He wanted them to know his team, he thought they would all get along well. It was a warm feeling, a good feeling. When he returned to his team two days later, after catching up with everyone, he felt better than he had in ages. Energized, ready to do what needed to be done, with the knowledge that he had allies to call on if things got rough.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this is a bit heavier of a chapter. Sam takes Bucky and Steve to group therapy. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and a thanks to everyone who commented! I really appreciate hearing from you!
> 
> Please enjoy!

Sam wasn’t at all surprised when Steve decided to attend Bucky’s group therapy sessions at the VA. Actually, he’d kind of expected it. And, while he wished they would go to separate sessions, he felt certain that Steve might need it just as much as Bucky did. So when they finally went to their first meeting, down at the New York VA office (which had been happy to have Sam the minute he’d walked in the door- his reputation preceded him,) he just smiled a little at the murmurs his two companions excited amongst the usual group of vets.

“Ok guys, we’ve two new members today,” he said, starting off the meeting by treating Steve and Bucky as if they were just regular people, maybe just returned from deployment. He let them introduce themselves, Steve awkwardly stumbling over his words, Bucky adding snark to most of his comments. After the initial surprise, most of the people in the room seemed to settle down, only throwing the occasional awed glance over at the super-soldiers. A few guys looked a little overwhelmed, to be sitting in the same room as Captain America, but Sam hoped they would adjust. He’d chosen this meeting group because it had the members most likely to accept Steve and Bucky for who they were.

The pair were silent at first, listening rather than talking, but Sam could see that every once in a while they would nod to someone’s story, or have a small conversation between themselves, as if they related to what was being said. Surprisingly, of the pair, it was Steve that spoke first.

A young soldier, maybe twenty three years old, had started telling his story. Somewhere along the line, tears started streaming down his face, but he didn’t seem to notice. “It was my second tour,” he said, staring at his right hand, where it rested on his knee- it was plastic. That- and the boy’s other apparent injuries- made it clear he would not have a third. “We were raiding this house, out in the desert. Al-Qaida cell, some big shot was supposedly holed up on the third floor. I was first in the door, and standing there was this kid. Couldn’t be older than nineteen. I think he was the door guard. He had a gun. He raised it, hand shaking on the trigger. If I’d had time, I probably could’ve talked him down, gotten him to walk away. But I didn’t, there was a team of guys behind me, and we had to go. So I shot him. Two in the chest, one in the head. I went to check the body, just to be sure. His eyes were still open. He just looked at me, like he couldn’t believe I’d killed him. My squad leader told me to move out, we had the rest of the house to clear. I didn’t even close his eyes.” The kid stopped, closed his own eyes as if to hold back the tears. “That’s… I dream about him. All the time. He asks me why. Tells me he had a life, a mother, a baby sister waiting for him to come home. Sometimes I see his family, they blame me, I took their boy away. But I couldn’t’ve done different, not when he would have shot me, or one of the others. I tell myself he was a terrorist, he wanted to see me and all my family dead. That, if I’d spared him, he’d just have gone to some other stronghold, maybe done a suicide bombing. I even tell myself I saved more lives by taking his. But…” He swallowed a harsh sob, and Sam briefly looked away from the boy to see Steve watching intently, an unreadable expression on his face.

“But,” the boy continued, shaking his head. “That doesn’t change what I did. I killed that boy. I killed a lot of people, because I had to, because they would have killed me or my friends or my family if I didn’t. But what does that make me?”

“I think,” Steve said quietly, and everyone, even the kid, turned to look at him. “I think the fact that you regret what you did makes all the difference between a killer and a soldier. You did what you had to. If you could have, you would have done different. You regret the life you’ve taken, not because they were good people, but because they were people.” He sighed, and looked down.

“That’s what I tell myself anyway. The people I killed, I did it because I had to. They wouldn’t have felt any regret over killing me, in fact, I’m pretty sure most of them would have been happy about it.” Steve shook his head, and Sam noticed Bucky lean over and wrap a hand firmly around Steve’s wrist.

“When I was trying to sign up, Dr. Erskine asked me if I wanted to kill Nazis. I told him the truth, which was I didn’t. I never wanted to kill anybody. What I wanted was to protect people, save the people that couldn’t save themselves. I don’t like bullies, never have. And to my mind, anyone who’s willing to start a war is at least partly a bully himself. I did what I did because I have people I want to protect.” (And here, Sam noticed that Steve glanced at Bucky as he spoke.) “But you can’t go up against someone willing to kill you, without being ready to kill yourself. My drill sergeant used to say “Son, never draw your gun if you don’t intend to kill.” And that’s what it had to be.

“We all made compromises, in the war. Did things no decent person would ever think of doing. For the most part, I just try to remember that I was doing it to protect people, like you said,” Steve nodded towards the boy, “I tell myself I saved more lives by taking the ones I did. That, if I hadn’t, maybe the Axis would have won, and the world today would be a lot worse. But sometimes… sometimes that’s not enough.

“I… I lost somebody, one of my men, someone who was real important to me.” As Steve said it, Sam heard Bucky draw in a sharp breath. A few of the others, ones who knew the story, looked at him with understanding. Steve continued to speak. “After he died, it wasn’t really about protecting people anymore. I mean, sure, it _was_ , but I didn’t care so much if I killed the enemy. All I could think when I saw them was ‘you’re alive, but he’s dead’. I killed some people I probably could have taken prisoner, maybe people I _should_ have taken prisoner. Nobody said anything, nobody stopped me. I didn’t really think about it, except sometimes, real late at night, I’d wonder what I was doing. But things moved fast, real fast, and suddenly I was crashing a plane into the ice. And then I woke up, and it was seventy years later. The war was over. They said we’d won. But what we’d lost…” he shook his head again.

“I think about it every day- all the people I killed in the line of ‘duty’. The missions I _still_ go on, and sometimes there isn’t a way to get out of it without killing. The guilt, sometimes it gets too much. I just want to bury my head in the sand and give up, but that won’t change what’s happened. What I still have to do sometimes. Because in the end, I’m here to protect people. I can’t do that, if I just give in to the guilt and the pain. I have people that care about me, just like the people I killed probably had people to care about them. People who would be hurt if I didn’t come back from a mission. So I keep going. And in the end, I hope maybe the good I do will balance out all the bad.”

There was a silence, after Steve finished speaking. Bucky was watching him with an unreadable expression, but his eyes were sad. Steve looked up at last, to see the group staring at him, and blushed. Sam noted that even his ears turned red. It was actually kind of adorable, if the topic at hand hadn’t been so serious. Then someone in the group made a thoughtful noise, and a woman spoke up.

“I know what you mean,” she said. “We have to believe the good we did is more than the harm we’ve caused. Otherwise, what’s the point of us? Of soldiers? Of America- the home of the brave and goddamned land of the free? Nobody comes out of this life lily-white, anyone who says you can is just kidding themselves. We put our lives on the line so others don’t have to. So this land remains free. I signed up so another 9/11 won’t happen. So nobody else loses a husband or a brother to terror attacks. And if it means sometimes I wake my son in the middle of the night because I’m having a screaming nightmare, then so be it. That’s the cost of freedom.”

There were murmurs of assent across the group, and others stepped forward to share their stories. Steve didn’t speak all that much again, and neither did Bucky, but they both listened, and when they had a comment, the group listened to them too- not in awe of the heroes, but in companionship with soldiers who had been through the same sort of hell that was a battlefield.

The meeting wrapped up slowly, everyone lingering to chat a little after the official session. Steve and Bucky seemed content to sit, talking a bit with the others who approached them. One guy asked them both for an autograph, and Sam noted Bucky’s surprise that he was included in the request. They gave it, with the grace of men who had done this sort of thing plenty of times before, but never quite got used to it. Then the kid got up, the one who had spoken of killing the young Al-Qaida soldier, and went to stand by them. He looked embarrassed for a second, before looking at Steve and saying simply “Thanks.”

People started to trickle out, those with jobs rushing off to get back to them, others going to run errands, or doctor’s appointments. The ones with nowhere to go but home stayed longest- not wanting to return to an empty house or apartment. There were still a few left, when Natasha showed up, with a bag. She tossed it at Steve, who caught it, having stood when she came in.

“Suit up,” she told him. “We’ve got a mad scientist attacking Central Park. Something about wanting to make an army of sentient _trees_.”

“What about me?” Bucky asked, not very hopeful.

“You’re a civilian now,” Natasha told him. “You and Sam get back to the tower and wait for us.”

“But I could help!” Bucky said, almost at the same time as Sam. The Black Widow smiled at them both.

“We’ll call if we need you. Come on, Cap. We’ve got to go.” She grabbed Steve’s arm, pulling him from the building. He stopped in the doorway, shooting Bucky an enquiring look. Before either Sam or Natasha could ask, Bucky nodded, and removed his tags from around his neck. Steve did the same, and to Sam’s astonishment, they switched them. Then Steve was out the door. Bucky noticed Sam watching as he slid Steve’s tags over his head, and shrugged.

“Means I’ll be here when he gets back. And he has to come home, to return them,” he said, and Sam understood. He made a note to add a number 18 to his list: “They exchange dog tags when Steve goes on missions.”

Sam and Bucky quickly returned to the tower, advising the others to do the same- with a battle involving the Avengers going on, New York was not a safe place to be outside. They got up to Steve and Bucky’s apartment just in time to turn on the news and see the team arrive in a jet- a jet that was pulled out of the air by what looked like a giant arm made of tree roots. The helicopter filming the battle zoomed in on the wreckage, letting Bucky and Sam see the team scramble out of it, weapons drawn. Tony arrived in his suit, darting around in the air to avoid the arm/root/thing, while the others grouped together on the ground.

Bucky sank onto the sofa, eyes glued to the TV as the live coverage of the battle continued. Steve was obviously calling the shots, from the way everyone responded to his gestures. Widow and Hawkeye raced off. Thor began to swing his hammer in preparation for flight. And Bruce, still human, strode forward. The camera focused on him, letting viewers watch as he began to grow, skin turning from pale pinkish to green, muscles bulging. The Hulk let out a monstrous roar, and charged right into what appeared to be walking shrubbery.

Sam settled onto the couch next to Bucky, noting his wide eyes. It was probably the first time he’d seen Bruce transform, since there hadn’t been any incidents with the Hulk since he’d returned. The camera zoomed out again, giving them a good view of the rest of the battle. They watched together in silence, glued to the screen. Sam was willing to bet Bucky wouldn’t have moved if his life depended on it- he was too intent on watching Steve.

The fight was over relatively quickly, only about fifteen or twenty minutes of actual battle before the Avengers had surrounded the mad scientist. After a few more minutes of stand-off between them, in which Hawkeye sent a well-placed arrow through the thing the man was using to control the plant life around them, the scientist surrendered. Bucky continued to watch from the edge of his seat, until the man was led away in handcuffs. Then he sighed, and leaned back.

“Damn. I don’t know how people do it, waiting for people to come home from battle,” Bucky said, relief making him boneless and sprawled out on the sofa rather like an overcooked noodle. “I don’t know what I would have done if Steve’d gotten hurt.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I don’t know either. It was always hell, if Riley went out on a mission, and I didn’t. That wasn’t often, but it happened sometimes.”

“Riley was your partner, yeah?” Bucky asked. Sam nodded.

“Partner, wing-man, best friend. Pretty much the most important person in my world, until he got himself blown out of the sky.” He couldn’t keep the slight bitterness out of those words. If Sam had just been a little faster, if Riley had just flown a little quicker… but what had happened, had happened. He couldn’t change that, much as he wanted to.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky looked away, back at the TV. Softly, almost reluctantly, he asked, “Were you…?”

“Yeah, we were,” Sam nodded. “I was a bit dumb about it at first- didn’t want to admit I might have feelings for another man. But Riley, he was persistent. He knew what he wanted, and he knew I wanted it too. He wasn’t gonna let my own self-denial get in the way of us being happy.” He smiled a bit at the memory. Riley had taken him outside one night, away from the other guys, and just pushed him against a building and kissed him. Sam had protested, and Riley had pulled back.

“Do you _really_ want me to stop?” he’d asked, grinning. Sam couldn’t look anywhere but at those beautiful kiss-darkened lips. He’d felt his body respond, and suddenly the thought of denying himself this, when it was so clearly willingly offered, seemed ludicrous. No matter what his dad (a military man to the bone, and not so open to change) would say about it. No matter that, until he’d met Riley, he had thought maybe he was asexual, since women didn’t do it for him, and he’d never let himself look at men.

“Was it worth it?” Bucky asked, and Sam wondered why he was asking. Maybe he was more aware of Steve’s feelings than they all thought.

“Yeah,” he said, without any hesitation. “What I had with Riley, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not even losing him could make me wish that time away. Some things… some things are so good, they’re worth the pain.”

They sat in companionable silence some more, while Bucky worked through that thought. It was clear he was struggling with some internal question, but he didn’t seem to want to voice it to Sam.

“You know,” Bucky said at last, “I never wanted Steve to join up. I thought, with his health, he’d be safe, back in New York. No doctor in his right mind would let him past medical. I was glad. I knew it would put him through hell, having to kill people. But then he went and tried it at that damn fair. I never should’a taken him. I’d just thought it was something to do, a fun double-date for my last day in New York. But he found Dr. Erskine. And the rest is, well, history.”

“Were you upset? When you learned he’d joined?” Sam asked, eyes not on Bucky’s face, but on the screen (which was now showing the Avengers helping the first responders mop up the remaining fighting shrubbery and trees.) He had noticed Bucky became uncomfortable when watched, especially when he was saying anything revealing about himself.

Bucky snorted. “Upset? Hell yeah. I didn’t want him anywhere near a gun. I only got the one letter, telling me he’d started basic, after that my unit was kinda hard to for the mailman to find. I did see a lot of Captain America stuff though, comics, the movies, that sort of thing. I didn’t know it was Steve then. Man I hated that guy.”

“Why?” Sam asked, just to keep him talking. This was more than Bucky had revealed about himself at one time, as far as Sam knew. At least, to anyone who wasn’t Steve.

“Because he had everything Steve wanted. It wasn’t fair, Steve was probably killing himself in training, and here was this pretty boy actor soaking up the glory, safe and warm backstage with the chorus girls. So I hated him. And then, I found out he was Steve, which… well. That was a shock, let me tell you. I mean, I knew him as this scrawny kid, a gust of wind could’ve knocked him over. And now, well. Just look at him.” Bucky gestured to the screen, which was showing scenes of Steve in a one-on-one battle with what looked like an oak sapling. Sam had to admit, the difference between the boy Bucky described, and the man he knew, was striking.

“But you were ok with it? After a while?” Sam wanted to know. He turned his head to see Bucky’s nod.

“Yeah. I mean, it took getting used to, I’ll tell you that. But in the end, he was still Steve, and that was what mattered. Never got used to seeing him fight though. I hope I never will. That’s not who he is, it’s just who he has to be, to do what he thinks is important.”

“Maybe someday, there will be a time when he won’t have to fight anymore,” Sam offered, trying to sound optimistic. He knew there would always be threats that needed taking out, but some day the world would have to find a way to deal with them without Captain America. He hoped that day would come without Steve having to die. He deserved a little peace in his life.

“I sure hope so,” Bucky said, and lapsed into silence again.

After a while, he had another question. “Is it true Bruce turned into the Hulk because he was trying to make a serum like Steve’s?”

Sam shrugged. “That’s what they say, at least. Instead, it just took his all his anger and magnified it into an alternate, super-strong, persona. He says he’s always angry now, has to keep a lid on it, or else he’ll accidentally release the Hulk. He can’t always control himself, and then you get messes that take months to clean up.”

“How does he control it?” Bucky wanted to know. Sam wondered if he was asking because of his own problems. He’d mentioned once, in a one-on-one therapy session, about the Winter Soldier’s anger. Maybe he was still looking for a way to control it.

“You could ask him,” he suggested. “I’m sure he’d be happy to explain it.”

“Yeah…” Bucky was thoughtful. “Yeah, I think I will.”

There was silence between them again, something Sam was beginning to think of as a pattern- Bucky seemed to have two modes- “Snarky/talk your ear off” or “stoic and broody.” When he was in his “stoic and broody” mode, he didn’t talk much. And when he did, it was always something like this- conversation interspersed with long bouts of silence. Sam had learned it was wiser not to break the silence. Whatever was going on in Bucky’s head, this was his way of dealing.

At length, he spoke again. And what he said came as a surprise.

“Thanks, Sam,” he said.

“For what?” Sam wanted to know, genuinely unsure what he was being thanked for. Being there? Listening? Talking? Not talking?

“For… everything.” Bucky was looking down at his toes. He was not a man to offer thanks lightly, that Sam understood. “For being here, listening. Not just for me, but for Steve, too. Talking helps, even when I don’t talk much. And Steve… well, maybe, between the two of us, we can make a difference. He’s much better now than he was a few weeks ago. He actually smiles. And some of that is thanks to you. So, I figure, I owe you. You’re helping me and you’re helping him, and you don’t have to. So, thanks.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Sam said, knowing better than to dismiss his gratitude. “I like you both. I consider you my friends, and I’d like to say you guys feel the same. I’m not gonna walk away my friends need me.”

Bucky smiled at him, a rare unguarded smile. “Well, thank you anyway. I…” he looked away again. “I know I’m not always the easiest to deal with. But you stick with me. And you stick with Steve, even when he doesn’t want your help. It means a lot.”

Sam felt warm inside, pleased to know Bucky valued his help. “Anytime, man. Anytime.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up yesterday, but then I got distracted. You know how, when you're drawing, and you just can't get the darn eyes right? It's driving me bonkers.
> 
> Anyways, here's Bruce's chapter! I hope his 'voice' is ok.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!

Bruce was waiting for Bucky, when he knocked on his office door two days after the fight with the tree scientist. The sergeant looked slightly embarrassed, or nervous, ducking his head and refusing to make eye contact. Bruce could guess what he had come to ask, and assumed the nerves were because he didn’t know how Bruce would take the question. In truth, Bruce had been ready for this encounter for weeks. He knew he could help Bucky, if the man chose to accept his help, but this wasn’t the kind of thing he wanted to just offer- Bucky had to be serious about it, or it wouldn’t work at all. So he’d waited for Bucky to come to him. Finally, when Bruce had begun to think that the sergeant wouldn’t come, Sam had sent him a text, giving him a heads up Bucky might come by- seems they’d spoken about his transformation while watching the latest battle on the news. So Bruce was prepared, to the very best of his ability. Gods, he just hoped it was enough.

“Hey, Bruce,” Bucky gave him an approximation of his usual charming smile. “Do you, um, have a minute?”

Bruce spared a glance for his experiment, spinning in one of Tony’s custom machines. It would keep. “Sure. What do you need?”

Bucky looked down. Bruce remembered the psych evaluation he’d done on Bucky when he’d first showed up, and the thing that stood out now was “doesn’t like to ask for things.” He was used to supporting himself, or, he had been, before his “death.” It would be a sharp poke in his pride, depending on so many people. And here was one more thing he had to ask for. This was sure to take some coaxing to get to the point.

“I, ah… I talked to Sam and Steve about your, uh, your “other guy,”” Bucky said.

Bruce nodded. “The Hulk. I guess he does come in handy sometimes.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Bucky stopped, then forced himself to go on. “They said… they said you have to control your anger, to stop him from popping out at any time.” It wasn’t really a question, but Bruce knew what he was getting at. He could force the issue, make Bucky actually ask, or take pity on the poor man and offer his assistance. It wasn’t really much of a choice- Bruce never liked to force the issue, unless he had to.

“You want to know how I do that?”

Bucky grinned, relieved. “Yeah, yeah I do. The, ah, Winter Soldier… they taught him to be angry all the time, it was the only way to make him kill without question. But I’m not him. I don’t want or need that anger. So I was hoping… I was hoping that maybe you could, um, show me how to control it. So it doesn’t get out of control. ‘Cause I’m gonna need to go into battle, I need to be there to protect Steve. I can’t just sit back and watch while he’s in danger. I won’t do that. But, the last time somebody hurt Steve in front of me, I, ah… I got a little out of control. Got angry, and that anger took me back to being the Soldier. That can’t happen if I’m going to get cleared to go on missions. I need to be able to keep my head clear.”

Bruce nodded again. He remembered the pictures of the lab where Steve had been stabbed with the anti-serum, and suppressed a shudder.That scientist hadn’t looked human. Bruce gestured for Bucky to sit in the chair opposite his desk, and clicked off his computer, leaning forward to give the man his full attention.

“You don’t have to fight, you know. I’m sure Phil or Nick could find something for you to do, out of the line of fire. Most of the time they keep me back in the labs, unless Steve thinks they’ll need the Other Guy.” He gave the offer, knowing it would be refused.

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “Not a chance. If Steve has to fight, then I’m gonna be right by his side. It’s my job to protect him, always has been.”

“You know,” Bruce pointed out, “We’re his teammates, we’re there to protect him. You can’t be much safer with Iron Man, Hawkeye, the Black Widow, and Thor looking after you.”

“Nuh-uh,” Bucky shook his head a second time. “Nobody knows him better’n me, so nobody can protect him better’n me. That’s, ah, not to say that you all can’t protect him. You just, y’know, could use my help.”

“Plus, you love him,” Bruce said carefully, watching Bucky for any reaction. The sergeant’s eyes widened, shocked, and Bruce thought he could detect a hint of fear in his face.

“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend. My brother.”

Bruce thought about how far to push this. He knew what Tony would want him to say, and he knew what Bucky wanted to hear. The two were vastly different. Then he thought about what Steve would say, if it were him. Steve was always a good one to judge moral actions on- if there was a moral compass, Steve’s always pointed true north. Bruce considered his words.

“It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?” When Bucky blanched and shot a furtive glance at the door, Bruce reached out and put a hand on his arm, though he wasn’t really one for touching, as a rule. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“You got it wrong,” Bucky tried to lie, to deflect. But Bruce saw the lie in his eyes. “Me and Steve, we ain’t like that. We ain’t- aren’t lovers.”

“I know,” Bruce told him, withdrawing his hand. “I also know that if Betty were out in the field, nothing would stop me from being with her, no matter how well protected she already was.”

The sergeant snorted. “Well, Steve ain’t Betty, and I ain’t you. I’m not- I don’t wanna protect Steve ‘cause I want to sleep with him.” His Brooklyn accent got thicker when he was upset, Bruce noted.

“You want to protect him because you love him. And not the way you love a friend, or a brother. I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about something deeper than that.” Bruce didn’t like the way Bucky frowned at that. He was trying to deny his own emotions. That was never good, and it certainly wasn’t a good way to start getting a handle on controlling said emotions. Bruce quickly amended his plans for helping Bucky. Step one was now to get him to be honest with himself, if with no one else.

Bucky was shaking his head. “No, no. He’s my brother. My brother. I don’t want-”

“You do want him,” Bruce said firmly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I understand dating a man was illegal when you grew up. It’s not like that anymore. Some states, you can even get married. And we- me, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and, yes, Steve- we don’t care about that sort of thing.”

Bucky continued to shake his head, starting to get out of his chair. Bruce could see the struggle in his face- he was fighting down both anger and fear.

Bruce stood up, leaning closer to Bucky’s space. “You said you want me to help you. To teach you to control your anger. Well, here’s the first step- you have to be honest with yourself about how you feel. It doesn’t matter if you want to admit it to me. But don’t lie to yourself. That’s the fastest way to lose control.”

Bucky remained standing for a minute more, looking with longing towards the door. Then he sighed, and sank back into his seat. “Am I that obvious?” he asked, softly.

Bruce raised his eyebrows at him, resuming his own seat. Bucky blushed, and Bruce thought he heard the sergeant say “Oh, shit.”

“If it helps,” he offered, “Steve hasn’t figured it out. We’re all pretty sure he couldn’t tell someone was flirting with him if “they danced naked in his bedroom.” -Tony’s words, not mine-.”

“Heh,” Bucky managed a weak laugh. “That sounds about right. Not that I mind- he’d probably go bananas, if he knew.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Bruce told him. “I think, if you told him, his answer might surprise you.”

The sergeant shrugged. It was clear he didn’t believe Bruce, but he wasn’t going to contest the issue. “Well, we’ll see, I suppose, if he ever figures it out. But, we’re not here to talk about my relationships, are we? Because if we are…”

“No, don’t worry,” Bruce said. “So long as you’re honest with yourself, it’s not something we need to discuss. Ah, unless you want to,” he added, aware that he should leave the door open for Bucky to have someone to talk to about this. He sure as hell couldn’t talk to Steve, and would probably be too embarrassed to talk to Pepper. The only other person Bruce would trust to handle this kind of… delicate situation… was Natasha, and she wasn’t exactly Mrs. Emotion. Talking to Tony would just be a disaster, and he didn’t think Bucky would go to Sam, Clint, or Thor.

“No, that’s something I definitely don’t want to discuss. We’re good.” Bucky grinned, and Bruce decided that, on the whole, that conversation hadn’t been a total failure. Now it was time to get on to step two: meditation and control of emotions.

“Good. Then, if you still want my help…?” He hoped he hadn’t blown it, by forcing Bucky to talk about his feelings for Steve. But it seemed that he hadn’t- Bucky was nodding.

“Yeah, if you could teach me how you keep your anger under control, I’d appreciate it.”

“Ok then,” Bruce stood up. “This is actually how I control all my emotions. That’s why being honest with yourself is so important. Come on, we’ll go to my room.” He led Bucky to the elevator, trying to remember if he’d left his meditation area set up this morning, or not.

“What’re we gonna do?” Bucky wanted to know.

Bruce hid a smile. “You’ll see.”

 

He noticed Bucky’s curiosity, upon entering his apartment. The sergeant looked around, taking in the sparse furniture and almost utilitarian nature of the decorations- Bruce hadn’t really gotten around to doing much with the place yet, he’d been too busy down in the labs. Betty tried to help, whenever she came over for a few days, but even she had only been able to assist a little. The only room that Bruce had put any effort into at all was the small office space he’d turned into a meditation/work room. His mat and candles were spread out on the floor, the soothing scents of lavender filling the air from a high-tech dispersal mechanism Tony had given him. In the corner, he had a little work desk, which had a few papers spread out on it- he preferred to work in his lab, but sometimes it was nice to be able to lock himself in his own home to work. One corner of the desk was taken up by his CD player, sitting next to a rack of meditation CDs, both instructional tapes and calming music.

“What’s all this?” Bucky asked, frowning around at it. Bruce decided he’d never seen a meditation room before- not much call for them in the brainwashing business, and pre-war New York had been hit badly by the depression- most people wouldn’t have had the money to spend on something like Bruce’s beautiful set-up.

“It’s for meditation. Sit here.” Bruce led Bucky over to the mat, and pressed his shoulders until he sat down on it. He then carefully lit the candles he had placed around the room, and returned to sit on the mat himself. “Normally I sit like this, with my legs crossed,” he demonstrated, “but it really doesn’t matter how you sit, so long as your back is straight. Put your hands on your knees or in your lap, make sure you’re okay with the position.” He watched the sergeant squirm until he’d found his most comfortable position. It was close to Bruce’s own preferred seat- leg crossed, hands hanging limply in his lap.

“Now, I want you to close your eyes.” Bruce had dimmed the lights, after lighting the candles, so he had to focus to be certain Bucky’s eyes were truly shut. “Now, just relax, and listen to my voice. Can you do that?”

Bucky nodded, and Bruce continued. “Alright. I want you to think about your breathing. Take a slow, deep breath in. And let it out, slow and steady.” The sergeant complied. “Through your nose, now. In…. And out…. In…. And out…. Clear your mind. Don’t think about anything but your breathing.” Bruce watched, continuing to instruct Bucky in a calm, steady voice, but the man’s fidgeting soon became apparent. His hands twitched, then he moved to scratch his shoulder, brush a strand of hair out of his face. His mind wasn’t focused, that much was clear. Bruce kept at it for a few minutes, hoping he would catch on, but Bucky showed no signs of calming.

Bucky opened his eyes when he stopped talking, and the look on his face clearly said he knew he’d done badly. He flinched when Bruce moved, as if expecting to be hit. Bruce froze, then moved his hands carefully and deliberately, making sure Bucky saw all the actions were done far away from him and without threat. He didn’t reassure him with words- it would only serve to make him more uncomfortable. Instead, Bruce retrieved another candle, a tall one that was sure to have a decent flame, and placed it before Bucky.

“Here, this was how I saw a monk teaching a young man to meditate in… somewhere in Asia, I think. Don’t close your eyes this time, just focus on the flame. Watch it. Alright?”

Bucky nodded, forcing whatever emotion he was feeling down and away from his conscious thought. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s hard not to think.”

“It was hard at first for me too, but it gets easier. And believe it or not, you’ll feel better after meditating for awhile.” Bruce smiled, hopefully encouragingly.

“You’ve been doing this a long time?” Bucky asked, keeping his voice soft like Bruce had been doing.

Bruce smiled. “Yeah, I actually started before I needed it for the Other Guy. After, I learned more advanced ways to get a handle on your emotions. It’s surprising the people you’ll meet, traveling around the world.”

“I’ll have to try that some time,” Bucky said, and Bruce nodded.

“So, you ready to try again?”

Bucky thought about it, before grinning and inclining his head.

“Alright then. Keep your eyes on the flames, and think about your breathing,” Bruce told him, speaking in a calm, low, rhythmic manner. “Don’t think about anything else, just the air coming in through your nose and out through your nose. Keep your eyes on the flame. Breathe in, nice and deep. Good. Breathe out… good. In…. Out… In… Out…”

This time, Bucky got it. Or, well, came close to getting it. Bruce didn’t expect him to get the hang of meditation right away, but it was a very good beginning. Actually, he looked at Bucky, sitting with his back straight, eyes half lidded and focused on the flame, and thought it was better than a good beginning. Bucky seemed to have a knack for this.

An hour went by quickly in this manner, and Bucky looked up in shock when Bruce stood and stretched.

“Get up, you’ll probably need to stretch. You’ve been sitting like that for an hour. I’m impressed. Most people wouldn’t have been able to do that.” Bruce delivered the compliment while going around to extinguish the candles, so he almost didn’t catch Bucky’s pleased smile.

“Well, I had a lot of practice sitting still in the Army, and then as the Soldier,” he demurred, stretching first his arms and then his legs.

“I guess you would have,” Bruce shrugged. “Still, that’s good. You’ll be able to master this step faster.”

“You mean there’s more?” Bucky almost whined.

Bruce held back a laugh. “Oh yeah. We’re going to have to practice every day, especially if you want Fury to clear you for missions soon.”

Bucky made a face. “Great. When?”

Bruce frowned, and considered. His morning meditation was normally his time for himself, but he wouldn’t mind having company during it for a time, especially for a good cause. “I normally do this every day at 5.”

“In the morning?” Bucky shook his head. “No thanks. Nobody should be moving earlier than seven, at the earliest.”

Bruce laughed. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind adding an extra hour of meditation in the evenings. Nine o’clock work for you?”

“Oh, god, sorry. No, 5am is fine. I don’t want to be a bother.” Bucky looked down at his toes.

“Bucky,” Bruce planted himself directly in front of his friend (because he felt like they were friends, now. They’d gotten to know each other, at least a bit, over the past few weeks) and waited for the man to look up at him. “I don’t mind. I wouldn’t offer if I did.”

“You’re sure?” Bucky asked, frowning.

“Yes. I’m sure. Twenty-one hundred hours. Tomorrow night. Don’t be late, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky nodded, and threw him a playful salute. Then he sobered. “Bruce…”

Bruce knew what he wanted to say. He also knew he wasn’t the kind of guy to say that easily, and he’d probably had to say it quite a lot recently. Bruce saved him the trouble. “Don’t worry about it. It’s my pleasure.” Thankfully, they were saved further awkwardness by Bruce’s phone ringing.

“Hello?” he answered, and Tony’s voice echoed out of the speaker.

“Hey, is the cyborg with you?”

“Assuming you mean Bucky, yeah. He’s here. Why?” Bruce frowned. Great. Tony probably had another scheme up his sleeve, something he hadn’t cleared with the others.

“Send him down to me, will you? I think I’ve got a surprise for him he’s gonna love.”

“Tony…” Bruce said warningly. “This isn’t-”

“No, no,” Tony was suspiciously quick to assure him. “It’s about his arm. Nothing else, I promise.”

“Right. Okay, if you’re sure…”

“Bruce! I’m hurt you don’t trust me!” Tony whined. Too bad Bruce could tell when he was faking it.

“Tony, I never trust you when you say you have a surprise. That’s just asking for trouble.”

“Whatever,” Tony switched to his ‘I don’t care’ voice. Gods. This guy was an overgrown child. On coffee. “Just send him down.”

“Fine,” Bruce sighed heavily into the phone, mostly for show. “I’ll tell him. But, Tony, remember what we said, okay?”

Tony’s reply was a rude noise, followed by his ‘petulant’ tone. “Fine, fine. No playing with the elevators, or other small spaces. I promise. Just send him down! I need him!”

Instead of replying, Bruce hung up. “Tony wants you in his lab,” he told Bucky. “Says he has a surprise for you.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, update on the series. There are six chapters left in Comitatus, and I will try very hard to get them all up before August 1st, because I am leaving for vacation for three weeks after that and probably won't have time to update. There will also be a final story in the series, titled Coda, which I will also try to finish either before I leave, or on the plane (because frankly, 22 hours on an airplane is NOT the most fun thing ever to do without distraction). Coda was originally going to be the final chapter for Comitatus, but it kind of exploded. Plus, Bucky insisted. 
> 
> I've started work on a few new ideas as well, and I'll probably ask for feedback in a few chapters, to see what people might be interested in seeing from me. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and a big thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments. You all are wonderful! Please enjoy!

Waiting is excruciating, especially when you are excited for something, Tony decided. After Bruce hung up the phone, he waited by the door to his lab, but that lasted all of thirty seconds. Then, he went over to the workbench and double checked his wiring. After that, he went to the chair and played with the settings, lowering it an inch and leaning it back to a better angle. He started towards the sterile tool setup, but was stopped by the disapproving stare of Dr. Ames, the lead doctor on the Avengers medical team. She was his partner in this venture, much as he’d rather do it completely on his own. The truth was, he had been forced to admit that the medical/neurological aspect of this particular project was just a bit beyond him. Just a tiny bit, mind. Next time, he’d be able to do it on his own. But he wasn’t going to play games with Steve’s future lover, that was the quickest way to end up in massive amounts of pain. Tony liked his spleen where it was, thank you very much. (He made a note to himself- find out where a spleen actually is.)

Tony was saved from having to find something else to distract him by the arrival of Bucky. The former assassin knocked on the door, and then entered the room before Tony could tell him to come in. He looked around with interest, and Tony waved to draw his attention to his project. He may have been waving with the project, but hey, it was an arm after all.

“Is that-?” Bucky asked, coming close to examine the shiny silver prosthetic.

“Yep,” Tony confirmed. “Totally is. Just finished testing it today. It’s all done.”

“Can I?” Bucky reached, like he wanted to hold the arm. Tony relinquished it, watching Bucky’s face. God he loved that look, the one most of the Avengers got when he did something totally unexpected and wonderful. Tony loved making that look, seeing his people happy. It was better than drugs, and believe him, Tony knew how good drugs could be. But it wouldn’t do if that got out to the general public, so shhhh.

Cap’s love interest ran his hands carefully over his new arm, fingers probing the metal (an alloy of vibranium that Tony liked to call unobtainium- mostly because it was even more impossible to make than vibranium was to get,) and gently flexing the joints. The sensors lit up on the readout as he gripped the hand, and a beeping sound signaled the electical pulses were reaching the fake “brain” Tony had designed to test the arm with. Bucky looked up at the sound, eyes scanning the readouts and obviously not understanding what he was seeing. It must be so hard, not being a genius.

“That’s meant to be your brain. The pressure sensors “feel” what you’re doing, and send signals to the electronic “brain” we’ve been working with. On you, it should feel just like someone holding your real hand,” Tony explained, tapping the metal of the upper arm to send off some more sensors. “Should work just like the real thing.”

“Holy cow.” Bucky stared at the screen, now firmly touching different parts of the arm, just to see the screen light up. “That’s amazing.”

“Eh. It’s cool. I don’t know why they didn’t do this before, what with all the other ways you’re wired into that hunk of junk you’re wearing.” Tony didn’t think much of the people who had first designed the arm. Sure, they’d made steps getting it to actually hook up to the brain, but they’d left out all the things that would really make it useful as a prothestic and not a weapon- like the pressure sensors. Sure, it had all kinds of gadgets for fighting, but that’s all it was- a weapon. Tony’s design was all that, and so much more. It was really too bad he couldn’t have included a gun or two in it, but Steve and Bucky had been insistant. Instead, he’d focused his energy on making it just like a real arm, albiet a real arm with lockpicks and other spy gear. He could have even made it look like real flesh, but Bucky said he liked the look of the silver. He’d chosen to keep the red star too, but Tony had outlined it in blue and white, to match Cap’s colors. Tony really couldn’t wait to show him all the special features of the arm.

Bucky must have read his mind, because he looked back at Tony and held up the arm. “Show me what it does?”

Tony grinned, and reached out, pressing an almost invisible button on the forearm, which released the covering over the control panel. “This here is your controls, the ones you can’t do with your brain. See?” It was a blank screen at first, but after a second, it flickered into life. Tony then grabbed Bucky’s flesh hand, and pressed his fingers to the panel. The screen read the prints, storing them into memory. “There, now you’re the only other person who can access the arm.”

“So, just you and me?” Bucky asked, and Tony shrugged.

“And Dr. Ames. For now. She’ll help me hook it up to you, and then I’ll remove her prints from the system.”

“Add Steve,” the ex-assassin instructed.

Tony really should have seen that coming. Those two shared everything. Even the metal arm, it seemed. “Whatever you want, dude. It’s your arm.” Tony pressed a button on the controls, and the index finger extended, and then the tip flipped back and a lock pick shot out. Tony pressed another button, and the tool switched to a different pick. “Full set of lock picks,” he explained. “I took the fancy key-card pick and added in the more conventional tools. Now it won’t even need the card, it’ll unlock doors wirelessly. There’s even a scanner for fingerprint or biometric locks, sends the information back here and Jarvis can hack it for you. The only thing it can’t do yet is iris scanners, but I’ve got a few ideas I need to test out in that department.”

“Wow,” Bucky looked impressed. “That’s neat.”

“Yeah, well,” Tony pressed another button. The lock picks retracted and a small laser appeared. “This is a variation on the tool developed by SHIELD’s Agent Fitz. Cuts through anything, even solid metal. I added a few improvements, if I do say so myself.” In all honesty, Tony had been staggered by the brilliance of the small device the agent had designed. He should have thought of it first, of course. It wouldn’t do for Tony Stark to be outdone by a kid. But he could hardly make any modifications to the device, it had already worked so well. Tony hoped he would get to meet Agent Fitz someday, there were a few ideas he would love to get the kid’s input in.

“That’s gonna be useful,” Bucky nodded, leaning in to look at the tool. “What’s the range?”

“I’ve tested it at about five feet, but it might be longer. It’s more useful the closer it is though. I could have given you a laser cannon that could shoot something up to a mile away, but no. You and Steve had to be boring,” Tony pouted.

“Better not tempt fate,” Bucky responded, moving to look at the control panel. “What else does it do?”

It took the better part of an hour to show the guy the whole works. He’d tried to put every extra that he could think of in there; warming coils, massage programming (just in case he wanted to give Steve a massage- though Tony didn’t present it like that,) a flashlight, hell, it even had a grappling hook/rope attachment for missions where Bucky might have to climb walls. And this was just the first version. Tony figured that in maybe six months, he’d have an even better prototype to try out- maybe seven or eight months, and he could even hook it up to Bucky. But for now, this was pretty damn cool, if he did say so himself.

“Wow. This thing is amazing. Thanks, Tony!” Bucky was smiling, that open honest smile all the Avengers had come to appreciate in the past few weeks. “When can we put it on me?”

“Right now, if you want,” Tony told him, beckoning the doctor over from where she’d been watching them. Bucky didn’t look surprised to see her, which meant he’d known she was there even though the place she’d been standing in was outside of his line of sight. (Some people said Tony’s lab could get cluttered. He liked to think of it as unconventionally organized.)

“Now? Really?” Bucky looked from Tony, to the doctor, and back to the arm in his hands. “How long will it take?”

“A couple of hours at least,” Dr. Ames said. “And we’ll need to run tests to make sure it’s working properly. If you would rather, we can wait. I had been under the impression you had been told about this.” She shot a disapproving look at Tony, who shrugged it off. Her glare had nothing on Pepper’s, and Pepper had been glaring at him for years.

“No, now’s good. Let me just tell Steve where I am.” Bucky pulled out his phone, unlocking the screen.

“He can be here, if you would like,” the doctor offered. “It’s up to you.”

Bucky nodded his thanks, already holding the phone to his ear. “Steve? Yeah, it’s me. Listen, Tony’s got my new arm ready, and they want to put it on me. Wanna come down and watch? …. Gotcha. See you soon then.” He turned back to Tony and the doctor. “He’s on his way.” Suddenly, he looked apprehensive. “… You’re not gonna have to put me under for this, are you?” he asked.

Tony looked to Dr. Ames to answer, and she nodded. “The process might be incredibly painful for you, especially with the way the shoulder is attached to your flesh. It would be better for everyone if we use anesthesia.”

“Right. Then, don’t put me out until Steve gets here, alright?”

The doctor inclined her head. “Of course. Whatever will be most comfortable for you.” Tony was glad Steve was coming, it was clear that, however much Bucky might want to trust Tony and the other Avengers, he still had a long way to go before he trusted them completely. Since he obviously still didn’t trust himself, it might just be that Steve was the only person in the whole world who had his trust. But thoughts like that were too depressing. Tony pushed them aside to focus on the excitement of the project, a feeling Bucky seemed to share, judging by the way he was fondling the new arm.

A few minutes later, Steve arrived. After he’d made the appropriate noises over the arm, and asked Tony more questions that even Bucky had, it was time to start the procedure. Dr. Ames led the way to the clean-room setup Tony had added to the lab just for things like this, and they got Bucky situated in the chair. Steve followed beside Bucky like a faithful Labrador, watching the doctor like a hawk. Once Bucky was safely asleep under the anesthetic, Steve stationed himself by his side, clearly guarding his friend. It was faintly a little insulting, there was no way Tony would let any harm come to one of his friends. But he understood, Steve took Bucky’s health more seriously than his own. He wanted to be certain nothing went wrong, and this was the first time Tony would be trying this particular procedure.

The operation went well. Better than well. After three hours of grueling work, Dr. Ames and Tony were both satisfied. It had taken more time than expected to remove the old arm, and the way it had been stuck on Bucky was frankly brutal. Tony really hoped he hadn’t been awake when they did the first operation. As it was, Tony’s arm connected much more smoothly, merging with the tissue in a much cleaner way than the old one. When Steve saw the extent of the damage that had been done to his friend, he’d gone white, but he hadn’t left the room. In fact, he just gripped Bucky’s flesh hand tightly and watched Tony as he adjusted the new arm to fit properly.

The attachment of the new arm took less time than Tony and the doctor had predicted. The hardware installed inside Bucky’s shoulder and side was easily upgraded to work with the new arm, and pretty soon they’d done all they needed to do. The sensors in Bucky’s brain seemed to be lighting up correctly, sending the correct signals, as far as they could tell. Now they’d just have to wait for Bucky to wake up and tell them how it felt. Tony wiped the sweat off his brow and heaved a sigh of complete satisfaction. He loved leaving a job well done.

“It’s done?” Steve asked, eyes on the shiny new metal. When Tony indicated that it was he’d smiled, and fuck, it was that smile. The one he seemed to reserve just for Bucky. It was honestly the most beautiful thing (besides Pepper’s eyes) that Tony had ever seen, and he once again questioned how they could have thought Steve was anything near happy before Bucky had come back.

“He should wake up in about half an hour,” Dr. Ames told them, removing her gloves and going to the sink to clean her hands. “Unless something went wrong, he should be able to use that arm just like his real one almost immediately.”

“And nothing did go wrong,” Tony assured Steve. “Actually, it went better than expected. I’ve got some good readings now, things I can use to make another arm for him, a more advanced model.

“Oh. Good.” Steve obviously didn’t see the importance of that statement, but oh well. Tony would just surprise him in a few months, when he came up with the upgraded model of Bucky’s arm. The doctor went over to examine the readouts on the monitor. She was the best in her field, which was why Tony had worked so hard to get her for the Avengers support team.

“So… while I’ve got you here, I’ve got a favor to ask of you.” Tony decided to implement another one of his wonderful ideas. Since he was no longer allowed to lock Steve and Bucky in enclosed spaces, he had to take more drastic steps. Thankfully, this one had presented itself quite readily.

Steve gave him the ‘suspicious of Tony’ look that Tony loved. The guy had a way with facial expressions. “What is it?” he asked carefully, as if expecting Tony to ask for something outrageous. And, ok, that was well earned. There had been the time Tony had dragged him out to that fancy diner to meet some ‘friends’, but that honestly wasn’t his fault! How was he to know the guys were big Captain America fans? Or journalists. They were just people he’d remembered seeing around, and he’d thought it would be good for Steve to meet more people. He hadn’t planned on ending the night fleeing rabid reporters on Steve’s motorbike. But hey, honest mistake.

“Well, see, there’s this art class Pepper wanted to go to next week. We bought the tickets and everything. But, the thing is, she suddenly has this meeting in Japan to license some of our tech for their Self-Defense Force or whatever they call it. She can’t go, and art’s not really my thing. So I was wondering if you’d want to take the tickets, seeing as they’re nonrefundable. I hear art is your thing, and Bucky seems to like talking about when the two of you would take art classes together. So? What do you say?” Most of that was true, Pepper really did have a sudden meeting in Japan next week, and she had wanted to go to the art class. But Tony hadn’t ever bought the tickets, because, like he said, art really wasn’t his thing. He’d promised Pepper they’d go to a museum or something instead. But when he’d heard about Steve drawing, well. Suddenly, the art class had seemed like an excellent idea.

“You want to give me tickets to an art class?” Steve was still giving Tony his suspicious look. Seemed like he was going to be a hard sell. Good thing Tony had experience with hard sells.

“Yep,” he said, pulling a pair of tickets out of his wallet. “See? It says “non-refundable” on the ticket. It’s a pairs art class, but the pairs don’t have to be romantic. Most of the guys going are just bringing friends.”

“Figure drawing,” Steve read, taking the tickets. “This is with live models?”

“Yep,” Tony agreed, having a hard time keeping a straight face. Live models. Oh yeah, they were supposed to draw live models alright. What he wasn’t saying was that you brought the model with you.

“Huh. Okay, sounds like fun. If you’re sure Pepper can’t make it?” Steve agreed, and Tony did an internal happy dance.

“I’m sure. Apparently this thing in Japan is a big deal. Something about a million dollar contract, and our latest line of body armor and scouting tech. Pepper’s trying to make me come too.” Tony made a face. The whole thing would be talking to politicians and military officials, and isn’t that what he paid Pepper for? To do the big important stuff so he wouldn’t have to?

“Well, alright then. Thanks, Tony.” Steve pocketed the tickets, and Tony had to restrain himself from grinning in triumph. That would just serve to make Steve suspicious again.

Just then, Bucky gave a groan, and Steve turned back to the chair, watching his friend wake up. Bucky opened his eyes and blinked, before focusing right on Steve. Of course. Tony watched his expression as he pushed himself into a sitting position, using his new arm.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked.

Bucky paused before answering, bringing the arm up to hold the hand in front of his face. Good, at least it was working properly. The ex-assassin touched the metal of the palm, and gasped.

“Buck?” Steve leaned in, concerned.

“Touch it,” Bucky demanded, shoving the hand under Steve’s nose. Looking a little worried, Steve did so, and Bucky gasped again. “Holy fuck. Steve, I can feel your hand. I can feel you! It’s like you’re touching my real hand. Try the elbow.” Steve did so, and Bucky gave a little hum of pleasure. “Wow, that’s so cool.” He jumped down from the chair and went over to a table, where Tony had left a few tools and his coffee mug from that morning. Bucky picked up the coffee mug, then set it down. Then picked up the tools, and set them down. Then he went back over to Steve, and ran a hand over the fabric of his shirt. “Holy cow. I can feel everything, just like I used to.”

“That’s kinda the point there, buddy,” Tony said, and Bucky looked at him, gratitude in his face.

“Thanks, Tony. I mean really. Thank you. This is amazing.”

Tony waved him off. “Nah, you haven’t seen amazing yet. Wait until the next one!”

Bucky grinned, looking down to stare at his hands in wonder. “Wow. I can hardly believe it.”

Steve was smiling fondly at Bucky, the way that was seriously too adorable for a grown man. Tony had gotten used to that look, he saw it all the time. It was still sickeningly cute. Especially when Bucky noticed, and returned the smile. Those two seriously needed to hop into bed together, before Tony exploded of impatience. He didn’t know if he could even wait the week for the art class to happen. And if that didn’t do the trick, he’d have to seriously think about just sitting them down and making them talk. But only because Pepper or Bruce kept vetoing all his best ideas. He was still sore about the picnic idea, with a scavenger hunt full of suggestive clues. And the idea he’d had about hacking their computers so they only showed gay porn. And the whole thing he’d planned with the around the world cruise, which just happened to be offered by an exclusively gay travel company.

“Hey, Steve, watch this!” Bucky slid the control panel back and hit a few buttons, and the back of his hand opened up to reveal a mini computer. He hit a few buttons on it, and the screen flickered to Netflix. “It’s even got our ‘to watch’ list up and running. Whaddaya say we start Sam’s ‘Important Movies’ right here on my arm?”

“Bucky,” Steve shook his head. “How about we go up to our apartment, where there’s an actual television. And you can show me all the special gadgets while we’re up there, okay?” God. He didn’t even know how suggestive that sounded. Poor innocent, oblivious Steve. Bucky got it though, if the flush of red across his cheeks was anything to go by.

“Sounds good,” Bucky agreed, hardly missing a step. “Tony? Do I need to run tests on it or anything?”

“Just use it like normal tonight, it’ll send signals back here. Tomorrow you’ll need to come down here and we’ll run it through the whole program.”

“Sure,” Bucky nodded. “Tomorrow it is. Thanks again.”

“Like I said, no thanks necessary. You’re part of our team, now.” That sounded too sappy. He should have said something else. Oh well, the words were out, and he couldn’t take them back. Unless there was such a thing as a time machine. Now there was an idea… hmm. Well, time machines were impossible with current technology, but maybe something that could look into the future, and stop you from making stupid mistakes. Tony gave the idea serious thought, turning from his friends and going over to his workbench to start scribbling down notes. He hardly even noticed when they thanked the doctor and left the room, or when Dr. Ames followed them out a few moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the final chapter from Tony's POV. Next up, Nick comes in to evaluate Bucky.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this was actually one of the hardest chapters to write so far. Also the second-longest of Comitatus to date. I'm very glad Nick only gets one POV chapter- I'm not all that fond of living in his head to write. (So far, my favorites to write have been Bucky, Tony, and Clint, in no particular order.)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!

Nick didn’t expect much when he returned to New York. Honestly, while he was there to evaluate James Barnes’ mental fitness, he really didn’t believe the man could have overcome so much brainwashing and become stable, especially not in less than a year. So when he read Barton’s report, the one that recommended Barnes be allowed to accompany Steve on missions, he was more than a little surprised. What surprised him even more was Natasha’s whole-hearted endorsement of the man. Her report ran along the same lines as Barton’s, addressing potential risks of allowing Barnes into the field, and then countering them with the benefits of having him work with Steve. Nick wasn’t entirely convinced though, despite the fact that he trusted Natasha’s judgment more than almost anyone else. She had a history with this guy, and Nick didn’t know if that would influence her in this. So he decided to come to the tower himself, and get a read on the situation.

Maria Hill met him at the door. She was dressed in civilian clothes, but he could see the outline of a gun under her shirt, and he guessed she had at least three other weapons hidden in her clothing. She might be working for Stark now, but she was still every inch the secret agent.

“How’d you get put on door duty?” Nick asked, by way of greeting. Maria shrugged.

“I’m in the doghouse for not telling Stark about Coulson. I just got back from SHIELD two days ago, and he hasn’t forgiven me yet. So I get the grunt work.”

“I’m surprised he loaned you out in the first place,” Nick observed. Tony Stark wasn’t one to share, but when Coulson had requested Agent Hill, he’d let her go. Of course, he’d thought the request came from Nick, but if anything that should have made him less inclined to honor it.

“He didn’t. Pepper did. She said privatizing security probably wasn’t the only way to go, and if SHIELD needed the help, I should be there to give it. Not like they needed me around here, anyway. They’ve all been plotting something to do with Barnes and Rogers, Stark’s too distracted by that to pay attention to things like protecting the world from aliens.” Maria frowned. “Seems like the plan isn’t working so well, so far at least.”

“What plan?” Nick wanted to know, instantly getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was bound to be not good.

“From what I can tell, the Avengers are all pretty sure Rogers and Barnes are in love, but neither one realizes it. So they’re plotting like crazy to get them together. Everyone seems pretty into it, even Banner. Romanov is teaching Rogers Russian, in case Barnes slips and says something in that language. He hasn’t so far, but they’re holding out hope he will. Banner is teaching Barnes meditation, helping him to control himself, and taking the chance to make him talk about his feelings. Wilson has some sort of plan with a list of movies they have to watch, and I’m pretty sure Stark has been cooking up more plans. The next step seems to be some sort of art class in a couple days.”

“Huh.” Nick wasn’t really sure what to make of that. He’d read reports of the closeness between Rogers and Barnes, back in the war, but the assumption had always been that they were like brothers. But then, that could be just because at that time, homosexuality wasn’t something people talked about. “What’s your view of the situation?”

Maria thought about the question for a moment before answering. “Honestly? I’ve only seen them a little, mostly Barnes keeps to the Avengers floors of the tower. He doesn’t seem to be big on company. Rogers is the same as ever. Well, no, not the same exactly. He’s happier. Smiles a lot. When the two of them are together, it’s like he just… lights up. And Barnes gravitates around him. So, I don’t think Stark’s idea of their romance is all that far-fetched. As for Barnes himself, well, I’ve only got an outsider’s view for now, but he seems fairly stable. There haven’t been any problems since he moved in, at least.”

“Everyone in the tower?” Nick asked, deciding he’d better interview everyone. Agent Hill could only give him the outsider’s view, and while that was good to know, Nick needed to know everything before even considering clearing Barnes for field work.

Maria nodded. “Yeah. I think Stark and Barnes are in the labs, running tests on the arm Stark just installed the other day. Everyone else is probably in their apartments, this time of day. Romanov and Barton sometimes share an apartment, but they’ve each got their own floors. Thor’s been making some adjustments to his rooms, prepping for his team to arrive, which should be sometime next month- once Dr. Foster finishes her work over in England. Rogers spends his time in the gym, when he’s not with Barnes. Banner is probably in his lab, or up in his apartment working on his new experiments. He and Stark are still trying to make a version of that anti-serum that works for him, but from what I hear, it looks unlikely to happen.”

“Alright. Good work, Agent Hill.” Nick left her by the elevators, and headed up. He made his first stop Barton’s floor, since Barton was the one who had been assigned to report on Barnes. He found the archer laying on his couch, head in Natasha’s lap. He sat up and turned to look at Nick when the elevator doors opened, and for a second both agents looked very unhappy at the intrusion. Then they schooled their features into more appropriate expressions, uttering greetings that just managed to sound respectful. Nick supposed he could forgive them that, since he was intruding on their personal time.

“Barton, report,” he ordered, waving them down from where they’d begun to stand, and sitting down himself. He’d been on missions for the better part of a year now, and though he hated to admit it, his body was tired. The wounds the Winter Soldier had given him hurt like hell when the weather changed, and from the ache he thought one hell of a storm must be blowing in.

“Sir?” Barton eased back down onto the sofa, sitting with his hands on his knees. Next to him, Natasha crossed her legs and looked at them both, waiting. Nick frowned at them.

“Your assignment, Agent Barton. Evaluating James Barnes. How’s Barnes doing?”

“Well, sir,” Barton shifted uncomfortably. “He’s doing well. Really well. Most days, we can’t even tell he was brainwashed. He’s coping, Banner has been teaching him some form of control, whatever he does to not hulk out all the time. Wilson and Rogers have been taking him to counseling sessions over at the VA, which honestly have been helping Steve just as much as Bucky. Maybe more. Those two are pretty much always together, unless Tony’s got Bucky holed up in his lab, or Steve goes out for a run. Bucky hasn’t left the tower since he got here, first because he was looking after Steve, and then because we were waiting for the all clear from you or Phil.” Somewhere along the lines, that report had gone from ‘official’ to ‘talking about friends’. Nick didn’t really mind- that was what the Avengers were all about anyway, a team. And you couldn’t very well be a team if you didn’t like(or at least trust) each other.

“And his mind? He’s not going to revert back to the Hydra assassin in the middle of a fight?” That was the big burning question, and, if at the end of this, Nick got the wrong answer, he was going to have to make some choices the Avengers would really not like.

“As far as I can tell, no, sir. There was only one time where there looked like there was any danger of that, and that was weeks ago- the first time he saw Natasha. After that, he’s had some major episodes of guilt, but nothing that looks like he’s sliding back into that personality. Banner says he’s got his mind back, and I believe him.” Barton looked confidant, and Natasha nodded when Nick looked at her. Interesting, they both supported Barnes.

“Why did he react to meeting Agent Romanov?” Nick could guess, but he wanted to hear it.

“It’s because of our past,” Natasha told him. “Our shared past. You know about this. He trained me. But he was the Winter Soldier at the time, so when I met him this time, it was the first time I met “James Barnes.” He remembered what had happened, but once he adjusted, he was fine. He even apologized for the way the Soldier treated me. Like Clint said, he has major guilt issues, but nothing more than that.”

“How’s he been dealing with the guilt?” Nick asked, knowing how important that was. If the man couldn’t deal with his guilt, it would be just as dangerous to send him out on battle as if he was likely to revert to the Winter Soldier.

Barton chuckled. Nick raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking what was so funny.

“Sorry, sir. It’s just… he’s coping with Game of Thrones. Read the whole series in about two weeks. He really empathizes with the character Jaime Lannister, so here’s to hoping that guy gets his atonement before the series ends. It seems to be a good coping mechanism so far, at least.

“Other than that, he’s talking to Steve. A little to me, and I think he spoke with Thor a bit, but mostly Steve. Steve’s really the only person he trusts right now, but I think he’s warming to the rest of us. He gets along really well with Tony.”

Nick snorted, and Barton grinned. “Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t have thought it, but you’ll have to see for yourself. They get on like a house on fire. Bucky claims Tony’s annoying, and Tony likes to call him an idiot, but that’s all talk. If Bucky trusts anyone other than Steve, it’s Tony.”

“Threat assessment?” Nick asked, the most important part of Barton’s report.

“To us? None. To anyone who tries to hurt Steve? God help them. Bucky’s fine, he’s got full control of his mind. I’d recommend him going on missions, at first on a trial basis, as Steve’s backup.”

“Natasha?” Nick looked to her, requesting her report on the situation.

“I agree with Agent Barton, sir. Barnes is stable. However, he is completely devoted to Steve. If anything were to happen to him, I don’t know how long we’d keep Barnes. The only reason he came back in the first place was because Steve needed him. And he stays more because Steve asks it, than for lack of a place to go.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the plan you all are cooking up, does it? Agent Hill told me all about it downstairs.” Nick watched their eyes flick to each other, and back to him.

“No, sir,” Natasha told him. “That’s… personal.”

Interesting. “Tell me.”

Natasha met his eye and didn’t look away as she spoke. “Steve and James are obviously in love with each other. If you talk to Wilson, he’ll show you his list- he’s been keeping track of the reasons we know about them. I think he’s at twenty-one now. Maybe more. The only people who can’t see it are they themselves. Stark thinks that bringing them together will help them both. Agent Barton and I happen to agree.”

“And Rogers needs help, why?” Nick knew the answer- he’d seen the signs himself, before the whole Hydra debacle. Steve had been fading, withdrawing into himself. Nick had done his best to keep him busy, hoping that having a purpose would help, but it obviously hadn’t been doing the job. Steve had been missing a part of himself, in the way that many soldiers do when they come back from war- the pain he had seen and the comrades he had lost had been nearly too much for so kind a man. Nick understood that, but he’d been at a loss for how to help. Now, he wondered if the Avengers had found the answers he had lacked.

“Sir, you know why,” Natasha told him, utterly confidant of her answer. “He’d left a part of himself behind in that ice. Getting James back was the first step on the road to helping him recover it. The rest is up to us, and James.”

Barton nodded. “One of the first things Bucky did was yell at us for not taking better care of Steve. He knew the instant he saw Steve that something was wrong, and he’s been doing his best to fix him. None of us had known Steve from before, so we didn’t realize just how withdrawn and, and sad he was. Bucky pointed it out. But the thing is, we haven’t had to do hardly anything, and Steve is getting better. He’s happier now, the guy actually smiles. And that’s all Bucky’s doing. It’s easy to see how much they care about each other.”

“So this is your way of helping? Plotting behind his back?” Nick frowned at them, not sure if he approved or disapproved of this venture.

“Sir, you know Rogers. You know how dense he can be. James is exactly the same,” Natasha said. “If we don’t push, they’ll never get anywhere. And all that unresolved tension is bad for the team.”

“Fine,” Nick gave in. “Just so long as I don’t have to hear about it.”

 

After getting Barton and Romanov’s verbal reports, which correlated completely with each other’s written assessments, Nick went down a floor to Banner’s lab. The scientist was inside, staring at the computer screen in front of him with some intensity. Nick stood in the doorway and knocked on the frame. Banner looked up.

“Director Fury,” his eyes widened in surprise. “This is unexpected. To what do I owe the visit?”

Nick noticed that he didn’t say ‘pleasure’. No matter, it wasn’t Nick’s job to be universally liked. “I’m getting assessments on Sergeant Barnes, from those who have had the most contact with him over the past couple months. I came to get your opinion.”

“My opinion?” Banner looked thoughtful. “You want to know if he can be cleared for missions. I’m guessing Barton sent in a report?”

“He did,” Nick told him, not that it was any of his business.

“And?” Banner obviously wanted to hear more. Nick wasn’t going to give it to him.

“I’m here for your opinion, doctor. If I needed you to know what was in Barton’s report, I would have told you.”

“Okay…” Banner closed the lid to his computer and leaned forward to stare at Nick. “So what do you need to know?”

“For starters, how about how mentally stable he is?” Nick suggested.

“He’s stable,” Banner said, without hesitation. Interesting. Everyone was supporting the man. Perhaps he really was as stable as they all believed. “He’s got some anger issues, but he knows about them, and he’s working to control them. We’ve devised a program to help him keep his emotions under control. It’s only been a few days, but he’s shown remarkable improvement.”

“But he’s still having problems?” Nick didn’t like that.

Banner shook his head. “No, sir. No more than any of us. He can keep his cool when he needs to, this, ah, training just makes it easier. Bucky isn’t going to let himself slide back into the conditioning Hydra put him through, not when it would put Steve in danger.”

“So… he’s only capable of controlling himself around Steve?” is what Nick read out of that.

Banner shook his head again. “I didn’t say that. What I’m saying is that he’s trying his hardest because he wants Steve to be happy. And he knows that if anything happened to him, it would hurt Steve. That’s his motivation, and I’ve gotta say, it’s pretty powerful. I never would have expected him to get his mind in order so quickly, but he was already mostly stable when he came to us. The only time he slipped up was when Steve was hurt, and at that point he attacked the Hydra agent that had attacked Steve. So it’s safe to say he won’t revert back again, unless it’s in defense of Steve. And even that I find unlikely, as his control has grown enormously since then. In fact, the only time any of us saw him even remotely look like the conditioning was taking control was at the welcome home party, when he met Agent Romanov for the first time. And he shrugged it off in seconds. No, I think he’s fine. Or, as fine as he’s gonna get, considering the circumstances.”

“What about his combat abilities? Will throwing him into battle put him in danger of becoming the Soldier again?” Nick asked.

Banner sighed. “First thing- we’ve all got to stop thinking like that. He’s not “Bucky” OR “the Winter Soldier,” as if they were two people. He’s “Bucky” AND “the Winter Soldier.” It won’t help him if he starts to think of the Soldier as a separate entity- he isn’t like me and the Other Guy. Yes, he was brainwashed and conditioned into being the Soldier, but it was still him. He broke through the conditioning because of Steve, but he’s still the Winter Soldier- that training, those skills, he’s still got them all. He’s one hundred percent “Bucky Barnes,” but he’s also “the Winter Soldier” in the same way that Steve is always “Steve Rogers,” but he’s also “Captain America.”

“Second- the answer to your question is no. He’s not in any danger of reverting back to the state of conditioning. Once he broke free of it, he purged all traces of it from his mind. The only thing that’s left is the anger, and I think that’s more a product of the serum than the conditioning. And he’s learning to control that anger.”

“Good enough,” Fury acknowledged. “So your recommendation?”

Banner took a second to think about it before answering, but his reply was every bit as confidant as Barton and Natasha’s had been. “I recommend that Bucky Barnes be added to the Avengers as the Winter Soldier.”

“As the Winter Soldier? You don’t think he should pick a new name?”

Banner frowned at Nick, as if frustrated that he didn’t understand. “No. Like I said, Bucky is the “Winter Soldier.” Reclaiming the name will help him find, or rather, keep his balance. He doesn’t want to forget what happened to him, but he needs to keep moving forward. Taking up that identity once again, this time as one of the Avengers, is a way to do that. He’s stronger than you think, he’ll find a way to turn the name into just another strength.”

 

Next, Nick went to Thor’s apartment, only to find the demigod in the process of decorating. He was lifting a couch above his head as Nick came in, and when he noticed his visitor, he slowly lowered it to the ground with muscle control Nick privately envied.

“Sir Fury,” he said, smiling. Hill had once described Thor as a very friendly Great-Dane, and looking at him now, Nick had to agree with her observation. “It is good to see you. I had heard you were dead, and was pleased to learn it was not so.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Nick said, and was drawn into a conversation with the Asgardian that was completely off-topic from what he wanted to ask. He allowed it to go on for a few minutes, indulging the man’s questions and asking a few himself- it was always useful to learn about other societies, especially ones that could produce threats like Loki. But after a while, he had to drag them back on track.

“I’m actually hear on a mission, Thor,” Nick told him, and Thor immediately dropped his genial demeanor and became deadly serious.

“What is it? Is there another threat to the Earth?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Nick assured the Asgardian. “I’m here evaluating James Barnes as a potential member of the Avengers. What is your assessment of him?”

“My assessment of Bucky,” Thor mused suddenly deep in thought. “You wish to know whether he is fit to fight, both mentally and physically, correct?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah, that’s the idea. What do you think?”

“I believe you have no reason to worry,” Thor responded. “I have spoken much with Bucky, and he is entirely in control of his own mind. Whatever his past, he is now loyal to Captain Steven, and those whom he chooses to give his allegiance. I can sense no danger of his mind returning to it’s previous state, when he was under the control of your enemies. He is sound in both mind and body, and I believe he would be a great addition to our team.”

Nick couldn’t really argue with such frank endorsement. After asking a few more questions and getting pretty much the same response, he took his leave and went in search of Tony Stark.

 

“You’d be an idiot to hold him back,” Stark told him blandly, looking at Nick from underneath the motorcycle he was currently working on. “Bucky’s fine. He’s as different as night and day from when I found him after the battle in that dive by the Potomac. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t think he was the same person.”

“So you don’t think he could revert to the Winter Soldier?” Nick asked, and Stark shook his head.

“Nah. He’s got it under control. You think I’d’ve given him a new arm, if there was a chance he’d be an enemy again?”

“Maybe. I think you’d do it, just for a chance to make a better artificial arm,” Nick said.

“I’m hurt you think that. I’m not just driven by self interest… ok, maybe I am, a little. But still. I wouldn’t have helped, if I thought he would turn around and become an enemy. I’ve spent weeks with him here in this lab, working on the arm. He had some struggles, but he’s not a threat. In fact, I think he’ll follow Steve into battle, no matter what you say. Might as well make him an official part of the team.”

“You don’t believe he’d be content to stay back, if Rogers was involved in a serious fight?” Nick knew Barnes had remained at the tower with Sam Wilson during the Avengers’ last fight, but that could hardly have been called a battle- not one person had taken serious injuries.

Stark laughed at him. “I think, if Steve’s in danger, Bucky’s going to go to him. You’ll make it easier on everyone if you just give him permission now.”

“I see. I think that’s all, then,” Nick turned to leave. Stark’s report correlated with everything else he’d heard so far. Next, he should find Sam Wilson, and-

“One more thing, before you go-” Stark called, and Nick looked back to see him looking unusually serious. “About Steve. Bucky’s helped him more than any of us could have. If you take him away, you’ll lose Steve. And I don’t think anyone else could get him back.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” Nick asked, raising an eyebrow. Stark just glared at him.

“It’s my opinion as Steve’s friend. He needs Bucky, just as much as Bucky needs him. Just saying.” Stark turned back to the motorcycle in an obvious dismissal. The man was arrogant, but Nick couldn’t deny that he got results. It really was too bad that not even living around Steven Rogers could teach him manners.

 

Sam Wilson was at the VA, in a closed-door session with veteran- a young man who seemed very much in need of his help. Nick waited for the meeting to end and the boy to leave before knocking on the door. Wilson looked up, and stared at Nick blankly for a moment, before remembering him.

“Director Fury, come in. Please, sit down,” he gestured to the chair across from his, which the young soldier had just vacated. “What can I do for you?”

Nick got right to the point. “I want your input on James Barnes. How is he? Mentally. Is he fit for field duty?”

Wilson took more time to consider his response than any of the others. He was trying to be objective, even though both Rogers and Barnes were his friends. This alone made Nick appreciate his input more than he otherwise would have. Finally, he shrugged and smiled.

“Well, he’s certainly got control of himself now. I think, once be broke through the initial conditioning, it was really just a matter of getting his memories back together. Once he had that, he had to work on controlling his emotions- he’d never had to deal with this much guilt or anger before, and it took some adjusting. I think it’ll still take him some time to come to grips with the guilt, but that won’t hold him back from going into battle. He wants to be there to fight with Steve- I don’t think he trusts any of us to take care of Steve, after the poor job we did after he was de-iced.”

“Is there any danger of him going back to the Hydra conditioning?” Nick wanted to know. Wilson had studied the human mind more extensively than any of the Avengers, aside from Bruce. What he said here would weigh very heavily in Nick’s decision.

“None,” Wilson said firmly. “All the programming or conditioning is gone. All that’s left is the guilt. And that’ll probably take him years to deal with.”

“Will that be a problem?” Nick asked him. Wilson shook his head.

“No. He’s finding a way to control those volatile emotions, and the guilt is something most soldiers deal with on some level. Granted, few have it on this level, but others have dealt with similar guilt. So long as you give him the option to pull out if it gets too much- for the first couple missions at least- I think he’ll be fine. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for.”

Nick stayed with Wilson for quite some time, getting as much information as possible. There was a lot the man refused to reveal- citing confidentiality agreements, but as much as he could, he explained the situation to Nick. By the time Nick left him, he was assured that Barnes was in, not good, but at least stable mental health. He would be mentally capable of carrying out missions, though Nick resolved to be very careful which assignments he got for the time being. Wilson had proven himself to be very valuable, in more ways than one, and after this last meeting, Nick had two new members to consider for the Avengers.

 

There was only one last stop to make. As the sun went down on a very long day, Nick returned to the Avengers’ tower, and took the elevator all the way up to Rogers and Barnes’ floor. The pair were there, genially bickering over the kitchen counter as Steve appeared to be preparing dinner. Barnes leaned in and swiped a spoonful of what might have been cookie dough just as Nick entered. Steve reached over without looking and gently slapped him on the side of the head, uttering a gentle reprimand, and Barnes laughed. Then his laugh cut off suddenly as he caught sight of Nick, and Steve turned to see what had caused the reaction.

“Sir,” Steve stood at attention, a pose Barnes quickly adopted as well. “I’d heard you were here. What brings you back to New York?”

“Your friend there,” Nick nodded to Barnes, who shifted uneasily. “I assume someone told you what I’ve been doing today?”

Steve grinned at him. “Yes sir. You know how soldiers gossip. I think Stark tries to make an art out of it, and Barton isn’t much better. They were up here within minutes of each other, to tell us you’d been by.” Steve didn’t seem in the least bit worried, despite knowing why Nick was here. Either he didn’t guess what a negative assessment might mean, or he was very confidant that Barnes would pass muster. Nick was suddenly, privately, very glad that, from all reports, it seemed that Barnes was doing well. Steve and Natasha were the closest things he had to friends, and anything Steve might have perceived as harming Barnes would have been the end of that.

“Can I get a moment of your time, Rogers?” Nick requested, and Steve’s gaze instantly hardened.

“Yes sir. What do you need?”

“I’d rather we had this talk privately,” Nick glanced at Barnes. He wanted Steve’s honest opinion, spoken without worry of what his friend might think.

Steve shook his head. “No, sir. This concerns Bucky as much as- more than it does me. Whatever you have to say, you can say to both of us.”

Barnes snorted, and Steve turned to him in concern. “Bucky?”

“You- that line was right out of Frozen. Anna.” Barnes was grinning at Steve now.

Steve reached out and gently slapped him on the side of the head again. “Guess that makes you Hans. Which, no. You are definitely Kristoff. Or Sven.”

Barnes made a face at Steve. “Uh-uh. I am not the animal sidekick.”

“At least your not the snowman?” Steve offered, and Nick coughed before this could devolve into another argument. He’d seen the Disney Princess tweets, and did not need to witness a repeat in person.

“Sorry, sir,” Steve had the grace to look sheepish. Barnes just shrugged and grinned.

“Just don’t do it again. Rogers, come with me.” Nick looked around for a suitably private place to have this conversation.

Steve stood his ground. “No, sir. Like I said, if this is about Bucky, you need to talk to both of us.”

“Fine.” Nick really wasn’t in the mood to argue, especially not with one of his most stubborn agents. “Then give me your assessment on Sergent Barnes’ mental and physical fitness for field missions.”

Steve blinked at him, then nodded once. “Physically, he’s in better condition than ever. Stark just gave him a new left arm, and beyond that, he’s had the same serum I had- he’s capable of any mission I could do. As for mentally,” Steve glanced over at Barnes, who was looking down, away, at anything that wasn’t Steve or Nick. “Mentally, he’s better than any of us expected. There is absolutely no chance of him falling back into Hydra’s programming. My recommendation as his commanding officer is that Sergeant Barnes is fit for duty. However, as his friend, I would prefer Bucky be free to walk away. He’s given enough to this country, we can’t ask him for any more.”

“Steve,” Barnes said, looking torn between fondness and anger. “Who are you to say I should walk? I gotta be here to protect you, don’t I?”

“Buck,” Steve turned fully to face his friend. Nick watched the exchange, both reluctant to interfere and interested to see where it would lead. “I can’t ask you to get back in. You never really wanted to sign up in the first place, not like I did. The war’s over. You should go back to civilian life.”

“Not a chance,” Barnes told him. “I’m staying with you, punk. ‘Till the end of the line, remember? I ain’t abandoning you just ‘cause I’ve had it a little hard. The only way I walk away from this is if you come with me. And I know you. You’re not gonna walk away until you have to. From what I’ve seen, the world still needs you, Stevie. And that means you need me.” He said it with such confidence that Nick had to believe him. He wouldn’t abandon Steve, no matter what. Nick had never seen such true, honest devotion.

Steve sighed, and smiled fondly at his friend. It was the first real smile Nick had seen from him, and it was surprising. Steve had changed quite a lot in the past few months, that much was very plain. “Alright, Buck. You know I could never say no when you put it like that.”

Barnes grinned triumphantly, and turned to Nick. “So, everyone’s told you what they think. I guess it’s time you talked to me, yeah? Which, well, we’ve never actually met. I’m James Buchanan Barnes. And I’m pretty sure you’re Nick Fury.” He held his hand out to shake, and, after a moment’s pause, Nick took it. His grip was firm, strong, and confidant.

“Good to meet you, Sergeant Barnes. Nice to see you’ve recovered.”

“Yeah, well,” Barnes glanced at Steve. “I had help.”

Steve shrugged, and turned back to his meal preparations. “Anything you need, pal.”

“So,” Barnes met Nick’s eyes. “What do you need to know?”

“Is there any danger of you falling back under Hydra control, or reverting to your conditioned state?” Nick asked, and heard a sharp intake of breath from Steve.

“No,” Barnes told him. “None at all. As I’ve told Thor, I wouldn’t allow myself to be near Steve if there was. I’ll admit I was worried about it at first, but the longer I went without any problems, the more I felt confidant there wouldn’t be any. I’ve got control now, and Bruce is helping me out on pulling back on the anger. I’ll never allow myself to be a puppet again, I promise you that.”

“How can you be so sure?” Nick demanded. If it had been him, he thought he might always be wondering if he’d lose it.

Barnes shrugged. “It’s my mind, sir. I’m the one that lives in it. I’d have left by now, if there was any danger.” His eyes were still locked on Nick’s, ice-blue and completely confident.

Nick nodded. That was all he needed to hear to make his decision.

“You know that I’ve gotten reports from all of the Avengers about your progress. I’ve also received medical reports from Dr. Ames, Stark’s personal physician. She ran all the necessary scans on you while working on your arm, and, at my request, forwarded the results on to me. After reading her report, and hearing professional and casual opinions on your mental state, I am prepared to make a decision as to your inclusion in the Avengers Initiative.”

Steve turned back around with surprising speed, eyes wide and wary. Barnes reached out, and clasped a hand around Steve’s wrist. Nick had heard about that- it was a comforting gesture for both of them, it seemed. In this moment, however, it was unnecessary.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, formerly of the Howling Commandos, it is my pleasure to offer you a place within the Avengers.”

“Oh, thank god,” Barnes sagged against Steve, but he was grinning. Steve smiled too, the first time Nick had ever seen him look happy. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, hey punk?”

“Just wait until you’re called out at two or three am, jerk,” Steve warned, but there was no bite in his voice. His eyes, when he met Nick’s, were grateful. Whatever else he may say, Nick thought he was happy to have his friend at his back in battle once more.

He watched as Steve and Barnes traded jibes and jokes, moving around each other as if made to fit together. Their banter flowed easily, and Steve spoke more in the next hour than he ever had at any one time since Nick had known him. They invited him to join them for dinner, and he accepted- mostly to get a better evaluation of the situation. He had a lot to consider, and he learned quite a lot about both Barnes and Steve over the course of the evening. In the end, he came to another conclusion- one that had him thinking back to the list Wilson had shown him earlier that day. Especially number twenty-four: “The way they are so absolutely prefect for one another.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter was pretty much an excuse to add a little more comedy before the finale. We're finally working up to Steve and Bucky's Big Introspective Moments! I had a hard time deciding who to make this POV from, but in the end I decided on Thor because he was so well received the last time I wrote him. Hopefully it turned out alright. This is the last "outsider" pov chapter, and I'm a little sad about that, because I had so much fun writing them. But next we'll hear from Bucky as he and Steve go to the art class! (For those of you wondering about Sam's list about them, don't worry, you'll get to see it soon!)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please enjoy!

Over the past few weeks, Thor had come to realize that he very much enjoyed spending time with Steven and Bucky. They were both good men, and good company. They complimented each other in a way he had not expected to see. Bucky was quick wit and brooding silences, utterly devoted to Steven. He had proven to be a ready listener, and an unexpected source of relief in the way he never judged Loki by his actions, but simply accepted Thor’s stories of his brother. Steven was quiet smiles and gentle comments, unending patience wrapped in constant concern for his shield-mate. They gravitated around each other, always aware of where the other was, but that wasn’t to say they left no room for the others. Just as Thor, himself, had begun to, they seemed to view the residents of Avengers Tower as a sort of family. So it did not come as a surprise when they invited everyone up to their living quarters for a “movie night.” It was even less of a surprise that everyone accepted, and before long, all the residents of Avengers Tower, plus Samuel Wilson (who everyone expected would soon be made an Avenger as well,) were gathered around the television in Steven and Bucky’s apartment.

Anthony was the last to arrive, accompanied by his lady, Pepper. The first words from his lips were “What’re we watching?”

Bucky held up a device that some called an “ipad” and some called a “tablet.” “Sam sent over a list- see, “Important Movies for Steve and Bucky to Watch.” We figured we’d start it tonight.”

Thor leaned in and read the first few lines. What he assumed were the top two movie titles read “The Princess Bride,” and “Titanic.”

“We figure we’ll watch the first two tonight, and go from there. Sam assures me that the Princess Bride is a great movie, and everyone knows what the Titanic was- so, a, what was it you called it, a ‘cult classic?’” Bucky looked over at Samuel, who nodded. “And a disaster flick. Something for everybody.”

“Great,” Anthony settled into the couch, pulling Pepper firmly against his side. “I love the Princess Bride. ‘Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.’”

Pepper watched him fondly, and shook her head. “I prefer Buttercup’s line- ‘Westley and I are joined by the bonds of love, and you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds. And you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords.”

Samuel grinned. “I like “as you wish,” he said, and Thor understood that they were quoting lines from the movie. He had grown quite fond of this form of entertainment since coming to Midgard, and looked forward to joining his comrades in this activity.

“How about, ‘there’s a shortage of prefect breasts in this world, it would be a pity to damage yours?’” Clinton suggested, with a wink at Natasha. The Black Widow glared at him.

“You would pick that line. I think I like “to the pain,” better. Westley had a wonderful idea of what to do with Humperdinck.”

“Hey, hey, no spoilers,” Steven protested. “Bucky and I haven’t seen it yet!”

At the same time, Bucky snorted. “There’s a character named ‘Humperdinck?’ Really?” Clinton and Anthony both laughed at that, and even Natasha grinned. However, Steve simply looked confused.

“I do not understand. What is so funny?” Thor asked.

“C’mon, Buck, it’s just a name,” Steven said, frowning.

“Ok, him I understand,” Bucky pointed to Thor. “He’s not from here. But Steve, really? You haven’t kept up with American slang? You do know what ‘to hump’ means, right?”

To Thor’s confusion, Steven turned a bright red, and hid his face behind his hands. Clinton caught Thor’s eyes and made a very suggestive gesture with his whole body, and suddenly Thor understood.

“Oh, I see. ‘To hump’ refers to sexual intercourse.”

“Yes, that,” Bucky nodded to him. “And dinck, well, I think we all know what that sounds like.”

“Go on, say it, Barnes. You know you want to,” Natasha told him.

Bucky glanced at Steven, whose ears and neck were now a shade of red only slightly less bright than his cheeks, and grinned. “Come on, Stevie, you know what I’m talking about!”

“I do not!” Steven protested from behind his hands, clearly uncomfortable. It was just as clear that Bucky was enjoying teasing his friend.

“Come on, pal,” Bucky wheedled, “Just say it. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”

“No!” Steven shook his head, not lifting it from his hands.

Thor frowned, trying to understand what Bucky was getting at. What word did he want Steven to say? Clinton caught his eyes again, and made another obscene gesture. Ah. That word, Thor knew. Darcy had called her intern that, when they’d gotten into a fight a few days before Thor had come to New York. The pair had made up quite quickly, but Thor had asked Jane for an explanation of the word.

“Ah. Dick. The word you are looking for is dick,” he said, and watched as everyone turned to look at him. Even Steven raised his head to stare, and there was a sudden silence. A silence which was just as suddenly broken by Anthony and Bucky breaking into uncontrollable laughter.

“Ok, ok,” Bucky gasped, once he’d calmed down. “I admit, that was almost as awesome as if I’d gotten Steve to say it.”

“Clearly, you’ve been hanging around us too long,” Natasha said, smiling at Thor. “Some people’s,” she shot a glare at Clinton, “language has been rubbing off on you.”

That set off another round of laughter, before Clinton scooped up a pillow from the chair he was sitting on and threw it at her. “Don’t act like you don’t curse too!”

Natasha threw the pillow back at her lover, aiming for his head. “I do. I just don’t do it half as much as you cretins.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re cursing in Russian the rest of the time,” Bucky told her, throwing a pillow of his own. He followed it up by a string of words in Natasha’s native language, to which she responded in kind. Steven, who Thor knew had been learning to speak in Russian, turned even more red.

Anthony picked up two pillows and threw them, one at Bucky and one at Natasha. “No speaking in a language the rest of us don’t know.”

Clinton threw a pillow of his own, directed at Anthony, and Thor decided this was becoming what was known as a ‘Pillow Fight.’

“Speak for yourself,” Clinton said. “You and Thor are the only ones here that don’t know it!”

“Actually, I am familiar with many of Midgard’s languages,” Thor said in clumsy but passable Russian.

“Sam? A little help here, feathers?” Anthony pleaded, turning to Steven’s friend. Samuel shrugged.

“Sorry, Tony,” the man said, also in (heavily accented) Russian. Anthony responded by throwing another pillow at Samuel.

Clinton turned from where he’d been distracted by a pillow attack by Bucky, in time to see Samuel throw Anthony’s pillow back at him. “Sorry, Tony, looks like you’re the odd man out!”

“Pepper?” Anthony turned a pleading gaze towards his lady, who shrugged.

“I took some classes in college.” Before Anthony could find another pillow, Pepper took up her own weapon and gently smacked her lover on the shoulder.

“What is this, gang up on Tony day?” Anthony demanded, throwing a pillow at Pepper, and another one at Clinton.

Bruce, who had so far been quiet, threw a pillow of his own in Anthony’s direction. “Maybe if you bothered to learn it, you wouldn’t have this problem, Tony. Natasha’s been giving lessons, you know.”

Natasha blinked, then turned and threw a pillow at Bruce. “That was a secret, Bruce!”

After that, Thor and Steven watched as an intense battle raged in the center of Steven’s apartment, pillows and the stuffing from the pillows flew in every direction. Sometimes, Thor and Steven just managed to avoid getting hit by the projectiles. Finally, when Thor and Steven began trading worried looks and considering intervening, the writhing mass of limbs and cushions stilled, the combatants laying in various positions on the floor, panting.

“Ok, ok, I give up,” Anthony gasped, laughter in his voice despite the weariness.

“Hey, what… about Steve,” Bucky panted, pushing himself into a sitting position with his metal arm. “He… doesn’t speak… Russian.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Steven said, the words flowing off his tongue as if natural. Thor had known the man had a gift for languages, either innate or given by the serum that had made him into the soldier he was, but this was the first time he had been witness to it. He was pleased to find yet another talent his friend and leader had.

Bucky seemed to have a far stronger reaction to Steven’s revelation. His eyes went wide, and his breath caught in his throat. When Thor concentrated to see his aura, he noticed it was tinted by the color of arousal.

“You…” Bucky couldn’t seem to get the words out. “That was…”

Steven shrugged. “You had nightmares. I wanted to know what you were saying.”

“Holy cow.” A smile slowly spread across Bucky’s face, as if he could not help it. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” he asked.

“For you?” Steven looked serious as he shook his head, his own smile fond. “Nothing.”

Silence followed for a moment, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen. For one moment, Thor was convinced that their mutual attraction was about to be addressed, but then Steven looked away, as red as he had been when Bucky had said the word ‘hump’, and Bucky shook his own head as if to clear it. The moment was lost.

“Ok, ok, get a room, you two,” Anthony said, halfheartedly throwing a pillow at Steve- it barely managed to fly a few inches before falling to the floor, far short of the intended target. “Aren’t we here to watch a movie?”

“Right,” Bucky clearly re-directed his focus from inside himself, reaching over to pick up the television controller. A few presses of buttons later, and they all settled in as the film began to play. Somehow, as they untangled themselves and moved away from the area of the fight, Anthony and Pepper ended up curled together in a single chair, while Clinton and Natasha sat leaning on each other on the sofa. Bucky leaned against Steven’s legs, content to remain seated on the floor for the moment. The sight of the couples was enough to make Thor dearly miss his Jane, and he hoped she would return from England soon. Bruce and Samuel exchanged knowing glances, and the three without partners present shared their own couch.

The movie itself was fascinating. Described by Clinton as a “fantasy adventure romance,” it told the tale of a young woman of surpassing beauty, and the poor young man who loved her. By the end, all of the Avengers agreed that the villains deserved what they got, but Natasha and Clinton lamented the fact that Westley hadn’t actually completed his threat of ‘to the pain’. Humperdinck was universally despised, but Steven argued that living with the knowledge of his cowardice was punishment enough, backed up by Bruce, while Anthony contested that he should have had some sort of visible punishment for what he had done to Westley.

The discussion went on as Bucky brought up the second movie of the night, quotes from The Princess Bride flying around the room faster than the pillows had earlier. Thor became convinced that conversation in the tower would be peppered with these memorable phrases for a good long while, and made a mental note to make sure Jane and Darcy had seen the film. He hoped the next movie would be just as enjoyable.

Titanic was an interesting story, focusing on what appeared to be a real event in the history of Midgard- the sinking of the ship HMS Titanic, which had been said by many to be unsinkable. The movie revolved around two characters from vastly different backgrounds, and their unlikely love story. Thor was strongly reminded of Bucky in the character of Jack Dawson, and many characteristics of his lady were reminiscent of Steven. The tragedy of the end, though, was crushing. It seemed to hit Steven especially hard- when Thor looked over, he saw tears in his captain’s eyes, hand circling his wrist tightly in his odd comforting gesture.

When the list of those who had worked on the film appeared- what Thor learned was called the ‘credits’- Bucky frowned and reached for the device with Samuel’s list of movies on it.

“Well, that sucked,” he said. “I thought we were going to see a disaster film. Not a romance.”

Samuel grinned. “I never said it was a disaster flick.”

“You just didn’t correct us when we thought it was,” Bucky countered. “Nope. Not cool.” He glared at the list in his hands, reading over the names of films Samuel wanted Steven and Bucky to watch. “In fact, it looks like most of these films are romances. What gives, Sam? I thought these were important movies!”

“Sam?” Steven asked, leaning over and taking the list from Bucky, scanning it quickly.

Samuel shrugged. “Well, they are important movies. Everyone knows about Titanic and The Princess Bride. The rest of that list is all classic love stories.”

“Here, let me see that,” Anthony grabbed the device from Steven’s hands. “Sam, these were the movies you suggested? Really?”

“They’re good movies!” Samuel protested, snatching the list from Anthony. “I even got input from Pepper! She’s the one that suggested Pride and Prejudice.”

“Which one did you go with?” Pepper asked, leaning over to examine the device. “Colin Firth version, good choice,” she nodded her approval.

“Romance movies” Bucky said, disgustedly. “Can you believe that, Steve? They wanted us to watch romance movies.”

Steven looked thoughtful. Thor wondered if he had caught on to the true reason behind the list of films- the reason Samuel had shared at the last meeting about the plot to get Steven and Bucky to engage in romantic relations. He had thought that, perhaps, seeing many successful romances would put the pair in a more receptive frame of mind, and perhaps the mood created by the films might just bring about the desired result. It seemed that this plan, like all the others so far, had been, as Darcy would say, “a bust”.

“I suppose they could be ‘important movies,’” Steve allowed.

“But I think we should go back to the sci-fi movie list,” Bucky finished for him. “I’ve heard good things about Star Wars.”

“Oh, man, no” Clinton protested. “Star Trek is the only way to go!”

Thor was quickly lost in the ensuing argument, in which Samuel argued vehemently for a series of films called ‘Star Wars,’ while Clinton spoke just as heatedly about another set of movies under the name ‘Star Trek.’ At last, when it seemed that Steven and Bucky were just as lost as Thor was, Anthony broke up the argument- thankfully before it could devolve into another “pillow fight”.

“Hey, they’re both good. Why don’t we watch both, and our icicles over there can decide which ones they like best?” he suggested, a proposal that was met with enthusiasm.

“Not tonight, boys,” Pepper told them, yawning and checking the time on her watch. “It’s almost one in the morning, and Tony’s got a promise to keep tonight.”

Anthony instantly brightened, grinning at Pepper. “Yeah? That promise?”

Pepper grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards the elevator. “Come on, Tony. Time to go.”

Anthony followed willingly. “As you wish.”

After that, the gathering broke up, everyone slowly moving off towards their own apartments. Samuel disappeared into Steven and Bucky’s spare bedroom, and Bruce left, mentioning a scheduled phone call with his Betty the next morning. Clinton and Natasha went down the elevator together, leaving Thor with Steven and Bucky.

“Come on, pal,” Bucky stood up, offering a hand to pull Steven from the couch. “We’ve got that art class tomorrow, right? We should get some sleep.”

Steven accepted the hand, allowing Bucky to assist him though he didn’t need the help. “Sounds good. Knowing Tony, there’ll be something weird about the class. They’ve all been acting odd lately.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, voice taking on an edge of sarcasm. “I thought they always were like that.”

Thor advised himself to remain silent, aware that, if Steven had become suspicious, future plans could well be placed in jeopardy. Instead, he rose from his own seat and looked over at the elevator, which was on it’s way back up from Clinton’s floor. “I believe it is time for me to turn in for the night,” Thor said.

“Thor, wait,” Steven called. Thor stopped and turned back to him. “What’s going on? I know you all are planning something.”

“I’m sorry, my friend, I do not know what you mean.” Thor could tell his answer sounded false- he did not have Loki’s gift for telling lies. He quickly excused himself and left- taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator to return. It would not do for Steven or Bucky to become even more suspicious of their friends’ plans, not when so far it seemed that nothing had gotten them even close to achieving the desired results. Thankfully, Anthony’s plan for the art class the next day at least showed a little promise.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this one took some time. And the writing involved a massive battle with the ants that have invaded my bed. And an almost-accident in which I nearly crashed my bike into a runaway cow. But it got done in two days! And it's one of my favorites! Thank you for reading, and please enjoy!
> 
> Today, since it's nearing the finale of the series (three more chapters of Comitatus, and then the one-chapter Coda) I've got a question about what you all might want to see next in the way of big projects from me. I'll put that at the end though, so you can get to the story!

Despite having gone to bed after one in the morning, Steve was awake well before any reasonable person should be out of bed. Bucky woke up around ten to an empty bed and the smell of breakfast wafting in from the kitchen. He took a few moments to lay in bed undisturbed, reflecting on the events of the past night. Steve had learned Russian. For him. And, since he was now trying to abide by Bruce’s policy of complete honesty to himself, he had to admit that hearing Steve speak Russian was really, really hot. And he’d learned it because of Bucky’s nightmares, the ones that had him shouting in his sleep. Add in the way Steve had said there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Bucky, and, well. If Bucky had been any less convinced of Steve’s heterosexuality, he would have started to doubt himself. Suddenly, he was very glad for the late bedtime last night- it had meant they went directly to sleep, leaving no time for Bucky to contemplate what had happened. He’d been so tired that, if that had happened, he might have forgotten himself and said or done something that would ruin his easy relationship with Steve.

Living with Steve, and being honest in his own mind about loving him, was absolutely the hardest thing Bucky had ever done. Even harder than putting his mind back together after seventy years of brainwashing. Sharing a bed, as they had done all their lives, was suddenly a nightly torment. But to sleep alone was even worse, because in the morning he would appear to find Steve looking strained and worried, an expression that would fade from him the moment he saw Bucky. Bucky understood. Steve now had a terror of losing him again, a fear that grew worse whenever Bucky was out of his sight for more than a few hours. And so Bucky continued to share Steve’s room, even though it was no longer necessary to keep watch on his health, and they had more than enough room in the apartment.

Just sleeping, he could have borne easily. But the late nights, talking… those were the times he loved best, and the times that hurt him the worst. Because Steve was the same as ever, still so gentle and honest and caring. But he was also different, guarded, and so, so sad now, and all of that was Bucky’s fault for falling. Even getting him to draw again hadn’t brought back his true sunlight smile, and Bucky was beginning to be afraid that nothing ever would.

It tore his heart apart, seeing Steve hurting. The only solace he could take was that he was infinitely better than he had been just after Bucky had returned. And even his smiles now did something to Bucky’s heart that made him feel like it was so full of love it would burst. Hearing him speak in Russian had made other body parts respond too, and sent a whole new level of desire coursing through his body. He wanted what he couldn’t have- wanted so bad it hurt. But he could never make that move, because Steve did not feel the same.

“I’ll defeat this,” he growled to himself, meaning more than just his unrequited love. He would make it just like it always had been, the attraction pushed down so deep he wouldn’t feel it. He would defeat Steve’s sadness too, bring back the sunlight in his smile. And he would beat his own demons, the anger and guilt that weighed heavy in his mind. He would make everything alright again. He would. Even if he had to break his own heart in the process.

“Buck? You up?” Steve stood in the open doorway, holding a plate of something that smelled marvelous.

“Urgh,” Bucky grunted waving a hand to show he was awake. “I’m up.”

Steve snorted, clearly disbelieving. He knew how Bucky was in the morning- there was no getting a civil word out of him before he’d had his coffee. “Good. Breakfast is ready. Get dressed quick or Sam and I’ll eat it all, and you won’t get any bacon.”

That made Bucky sit up. “Bacon? Oh no you don’t, Stevie. You are not eating my bacon.”

 

Breakfast that morning was a long leisurely affair, involving lots of coffee, eggs, toast, and, yes, bacon. As far as Bucky was concerned, people who didn’t like bacon were crazy, or vegetarian. He understood vegetarianism to a point, but he just couldn’t contemplate giving up bacon- especially Steve’s bacon, which was always perfectly nice and crispy, and never soggy with grease from the pan. (When Bucky made bacon, he tended to light things on fire. Finally, Tony had taught him how to use the microwave to make bacon. Microwaves were a really good part of the future.)

Sometime after all the food had been consumed, and the coffee maker was on the fourth pot of coffee, Sam excused himself, thanking them for the use of the spare room the night before. It was a Saturday, but he still had to get to work- he’d promised to meet a few vets for counseling that afternoon. His departure reminded Steve and Bucky they had plans for the afternoon as well, and sent them scurrying to clean up and get ready for the art class, which started at two. Then they were off, Steve driving the red convertible Tony had decided was Steve’s, after he’d used it for months chasing Bucky across the states. It was a sweet ride, but Bucky really missed the motorcycles they’d ridden in the war- if there was a better feeling than the one you got with a purring engine under you and the wind rushing past at 60mph, well, Bucky hadn’t felt it yet. (That part of his mind that loved to point out uncomfortable thoughts said maybe kissing Steve would feel that good, but Bucky did his best to ignore it.)

They got to the college where the class was being held with time to spare. Steve checked the tickets one more time, and they headed inside. Just before reaching the classroom, a thought occurred to Bucky and he stopped.

“Buck?” Steve looked back at him, curious.

“You’re sure this is legit, right?” Bucky asked. When Steve frowned in confusion, he continued on. “I ask only ‘cause last night you said Tony and them had been acting strange, and it feels like they’re plotting something. What if this is it? If this art class is some sort of prank?”

Steve considered his words, before shaking his head slowly. “No, I don’t think this is a prank. I know Tony’s working on something with the others, but whatever it is, I don’t think he’d go through the trouble of holding a fake art class. And he did say he’d been planning to go with Pepper, only she has that thing in Japan tonight.”

“So the class is probably okay, but we might be walking into something when we get back?” Bucky didn’t like the sound of that, either.

Steve shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know. I can’t think of any reason for the way they’ve all been acting, so a prank seems most likely.”

“Oh great. It’s just like being back with the Commandos, in the Prank War. Remember when Dernier rigged those exploding underpants?” That had been a funny prank- Dernier had somehow gotten hold of a pair of Gabe’s underwear, and placed a carefully calculated amount of explosives in them. When Gabe had gone to put them on, they’d exploded in his hands, emitting a foul-smelling gas cloud that lingered for hours. He hadn’t been hurt, but boy had he yelled. A few nights later he retaliated by translating everything Dernier said as really dirty commentary. That had been deep in the middle of the Prank War between them all. Bucky had been planning a great prank of his own for Steve, just before he’d fallen. It was a shame he’d never gotten to finish it, it would have been one for the history books.

“Oh great. We do not need another Prank War. Not with Tony involved.” Steve shuddered at the thought. “He’ll kill us all.”

“So, if they prank us, we just get them back so hard they won’t want to try it again,” Bucky suggested. Maybe his plan could still be of use- though he’d have to tailor it a bit- the original had involved Steve and a band that followed him around playing the Star Spangled Banner all day. Maybe an mp3 player stuck on Tony’s suit playing… something really annoying. Maybe the theme song from that kid’s show Clint had demanded he skip past very quickly when he’d been channel surfing. Something about “I love you, you love me.” Yeah, that would be prefect.

Steve shook his head. “No. We’re not getting into this again. No way. It’s just asking for trouble.”

Bucky snorted. “Steve, pal, trouble is practically our job. We should have fun with it every now and then.”

Steve was opening his mouth to reply, when the door to the classroom swung open, and a young woman stepped out, almost directly into Steve.

“Oh, god, sorry!” She jumped back, trying frantically to stabilize the teetering pile of art supplies in her arms.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Steve took half the pile from her, making it that much easier to carry.

“Thank you,” the woman said, clearly relieved. “I have to get these down to room 202. The class that was here before mine spilled paint all over the floor, and we have to get the janitors to come clean it up- it’s a real mess.”

“You mean the figure drawing class?” Steve asked, and the woman nodded.

“Yeah. Are you here for that, too?”

“Yep,” Steve smiled at her, and Bucky fought an irrational surge of jealousy. It was nothing but Steve’s ‘being-polite’ smile, but still. Bucky hoarded Steve’s smiles, perhaps because he did so rarely now.

“Oh wow,” her eyes scanned first Steve, and then Bucky. “Wow,” she said again, mouth hanging open a little. “Which one of you is the model?”

“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, unfailingly polite.

“The model. This is a pair’s art class, you know. One draws, one gets drawn. My boyfriend should be here soon, he’s my model.” The woman grinned, blushing a little. “But, now I wish I could draw one of you. Wow.”

Steve and Bucky traded a glance. Obviously that was something Tony had forgotten to mention, but no problem- Steve drew Bucky all the time.

“I guess that would be me, then,” Bucky said. “He’s the artist in the family.”

“Ah,” she nodded knowingly. “I see.”

Bucky sputtered. “N-no, not… it’s not like that. It’s… he’s my best friend.”

The woman shrugged. “No worries. We’re a pretty liberal college- you’ll see all sorts of couples in class today.”

A glance at Steve showed a faint blush across his face, but, strangely, he didn’t seem to be bothered by the girl’s assumption. He didn’t even respond to it, all he said was “So I’ll be drawing Bucky today? Sorry, ma’am, it’s just, we got these tickets from a friend, and he didn’t say anything about models.”

“Oh. Oh dear,” the woman’s blush turned on full-force. “Then, you don’t know about how you’ll be drawing the model?”

“No, ma’am. He just said it was a pair’s class.” Steve was frowning now, and Bucky could tell they wouldn’t like the next words that came out of the woman’s mouth.

“Well, uh, it’s… your model is supposed to be naked.”

“I am going to kill Tony,” Bucky declared. This was most definitely a prank. This called for some major retaliation.

Steve had turned completely red. “That’s, ah… not what we expected.” He was carefully not looking at Bucky. “We didn’t realize…”

“That’s ok,” the woman assured them. “He’s- you’re,” she turned to Bucky, “gorgeous. There’s gonna be a lot of women (and men) in class today, wishing they’d brought you as their model.”

Bucky wasn’t quite sure what to think. Sure, Steve had drawn him before. And Steve had seen him naked before. But the two things had never been combined. Even that one in their bedroom, the one where he didn’t have a shirt on, had been done when he’d had shorts on under the covers. He didn’t necessarily mind, though the girl might change her mind when she saw the mess that was his shoulder, where the metal joined with his flesh. But Steve might.

“Buck? You wanna do this?” Steve asked him. “Because if you don’t, just say the word and we’ll head back.”

Bucky frowned at Steve, trying to figure out what he wanted. Did he want to do the class, or was the prospect of drawing Bucky naked too embarrassing for him? Bucky couldn’t tell. It was frustrating. He’d always been able to read Steve before. At last, he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll do whatever you want, Steve.”

Steve looked at him then, eyes wide. Then he smiled, and gave a tiny nod. “Ok then. Let’s do it.”

“Steve…” The woman was staring at them both. “You… holy fuck!” Steve and Bucky both turned to her, to see that she had gone a brighter red than Steve, and was suddenly trying to hide her face behind the pile of art supplies in her arms. “You’re Captain America. Which makes you Bucky Barnes. And I… oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. I’ve been a moron.”

“It’s okay, ma’am,” Steve hastened to reassure her. “Your behavior has been perfectly fine.”

She peeked at him, over the edge of a sketchbook that was on top of the supplies. “Really?” she asked, in a small voice.

“Really,” Steve told her. “Come on, let’s get these supplies to the classroom. Room 202, you said?”

With that, Steve started down the hall, leaving the woman no choice but to follow. Bucky caught up to Steve in a few strides. “Still think this wasn’t a prank?” he muttered.

“I guess Tony thought it would be funny to see my reaction. I wouldn’t bet he’s got cameras all set up to record it,” Steve answered.

“Bastard. I bet the paint spill in the old classroom was his fault too, so they’d have to move to a room he’d have an easy time wiring.” Bucky had to hand it to Tony, when he thought up a prank, he went all out.

 

Being Steve’s nude model was a test in self control for Bucky. Having Steve’s eyes focused solely on him, on every part of him, for the better part of four hours was… well, if there had been the slightest chance Steve reciprocated his feelings, Bucky would have jumped him the minute he put the pencil down. He’s been posed on a sort of half-couch thing, metal arm curled underneath his head like a pillow, a small strip of cloth the only thing covering his private parts (that had been Steve’s idea, which Bucky wholly supported- it was a lot easier to sit there, knowing there was at least a tiny bit of cover down there.) He hoped it was enough to conceal the way his body responded to Steve’s attention. Because Steve’s eyes hardly left his body, except to look down at his drawing. Bucky was his sole focus, for that moment he was the center of Steve’s world. And that, well, it was enough to set his overactive imagination going, as to what might have been, if Steve had loved him. He felt like every part of him was examined, committed to memory, and then set down on paper. It was exhilarating. It was also terrifying.

The thing was, he thought that maybe he should be self-conscious about his body. Especially about the metal arm, and the mess of scars that came with it. And maybe, if he’d been with anyone else, he might have been. But Steve so obviously didn’t care that he didn’t even think about it, until he was laying there on the couch with Steve’s eyes focused on the scarring across the left side of his chest. And Steve… Steve didn’t treat drawing the scars any different than drawing his muscles, or the lines of overlapping metal in his arm. He’d never once treated Bucky’s arm as anything less than a part of him, and here, once again, was proof. Bucky had heard murmurs of surprise and pity from some of the other class members, when he’d first taken his shirt off. But he’d never once heard anything like that from Steve, or Tony either, come to think of it. The Avengers just accepted him as he was, and that was the greatest gift anyone could have ever given him. But every time Steve lifted his pencil, Bucky wondered if this would be the moment Steve decided he didn’t want to draw Bucky any more. It never was.

The class ended, and Steve packed away his supplies. Bucky was allowed to put his clothes back on, and by the time he was done, Steve had put the drawing away as well. Bucky had to admit he was disappointed- he would have liked to have seen it. But perhaps Steve would show him when they returned to the tower, away from the prying eyes of all the other art students. They were eyeing Steve and Bucky with a look they had both come to recognize- the ‘do I approach, or don’t I?’ look. Steve took pity on them, and went to greet the girl from before. She blushed again when they came up to her, and shyly introduced them to her boyfriend- a young man who looked star-struck at the mere sight of them. They mingled a little more after that, and then, when Steve was starting to get uncomfortable from all the attention, Bucky suggested they go home. As they walked through the door, they heard the girl’s boyfriend say loudly “You said WHAT?”

 

Back at Avengers’ Tower, they stopped by their apartment to drop off their things, before heading down to the common area. Saturdays had become a sort of group dinner night, where they all shared in the food preparation, and sat around the big dining table Tony had brought in specifically because it could fit all the Avengers and any of their potential guests, and had what Tony had once jokingly referred to as ‘family dinner’. The name had stuck, and so every Saturday, provided nobody was on a mission, they had a standing requirement to meet up for dinner. Tony threatened dire consequences, should someone miss it without a good reason. So far, they hadn’t had to see what those consequences would be.

When Steve and Bucky arrived, Tony grinned at them, from where he was lounging on the couch- it seemed that he’d gotten out of having to go with Pepper to the big business thing in Japan. The first thing he said was “How was the art class?”

Bucky resisted the urge to glare at him- Tony would only assume that he’d won. Instead he grinned. “It was fine, thanks.”

Steve nodded, following Bucky’s lead. “Yeah. Thanks again for those tickets, Tony. It was great. We hadn’t done an art class together since… well, since before the war.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have your work with you? You know, to show us?” Tony asked, looking over Steve and Bucky as if expecting one of them to somehow be hiding a sketchbook.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, I left it upstairs.”

“Wait,” Clint said, from where he was cutting up vegetables for a salad, “you mean to say you went to an art class today, and didn’t bring the finished product to show us?”

“It’s not really finished,” Steve protested. “I’ve still got some shading and color to add, and there are a few mistakes I need to correct, and-”

“Nope,” Natasha frowned at him. She had a large knife in one hand, and raised it as she spoke. “You’re going to go get it to show us, aren’t you Steve?”

“It’s really not all that great. I should wait and show you something else, something-”

“Steve,” this time Bruce interrupted him. “I’m sure it’s great.”

“I’ll go get it,” Bucky offered, eager to see it himself.

“Come on, Steve,” Tony whined. “I want to see it!”

“I, too, would enjoy seeing your work,” Thor added. Sam nodded in agreement.

Under the combined weight of all the Avengers’ gaze, Steve gave in. “Alright. I’ll be right back.” He turned around and went back into the elevator.

“Yes!” Bucky grinned. “He wasn’t gonna show it to me either, y’know.”

“But it’s you, right? He did draw you today, didn’t he?” Natasha asked. Nobody else looked surprised either, which cleared up any lingering doubt Bucky might have that this was a prank they had all pulled. Well, it backfired- there hadn’t been one bit of discomfort for either Steve or Bucky, after they got over the initial surprise.

“He did. But it’s funny, y’know, all of you seem to have known about the class. But nobody told us one of us would have to get naked for it,” Bucky observed. Bruce shifted guiltily, but Natasha showed him an innocent smile, and Clint just shrugged. Sam and Thor didn’t meet his eyes, but Tony did. And Tony was grinning.

“Hey, it was an honest mistake.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t for one second believe you and Pepper were really going to go to this class. You, pal, have made a mistake in trying to prank us. Go read Gabe’s biography, if you’re not convinced. The chapter on the Commandos’ Prank War should tell you all you need to know.”

Sam went pale. “Just so you know, I wasn’t a fan of it from the start,” he said.

Bucky laughed. “Guilty by association, pal. Whatever this big plot of yours is, just know, anything you do, Steve and I will retaliate. And Steve happens to have a list of Dernier’s ideas that he didn’t ever get to use.”

Clint leaned over and whispered loudly into Natasha’s ear, probably intending for Bucky to hear. “We are so fucked.”

“Yep,” Bucky agreed. “You really are. So you’d better rethink this whole thing, before it gets any worse.”

Just then, Steve returned, carrying the large sketchpad he’d gotten specifically for the class, and all threats of pranks were forgotten in the general interest to see his work. Steve was blushing, as he lifted the cover on the pad and flipped to the drawing he’d done today. Bucky, too impatient to wait any more, went around to look over his shoulder. And gasped. Because this drawing? Even unfinished, it put the one in their bedroom to shame.

The figure on the page looked alive. Looking at it, Bucky almost expected to see it breathing. There was loving detail in every line, every part of Bucky had been given equal attention, equal care in making the drawing as close to life as possible. The metal of his arm seemed to shimmer, matching the gleam in his eyes. And the expression on his face… Well. Bucky was really, really glad Steve was as dense as a box of rocks when it came to things like this, because his expression screamed his emotions. There was heat in his gaze, and a fond smile on his lips. If Steve’s only focus had been Bucky while he drew, Bucky’s whole focus had been on Steve. And it showed.

“Oh wow, Steve,” Bucky breathed, and watched the back of Steve’s neck and ears turn red. For a moment, looking at that work of art, he almost believed Steve could love him too.

“Hey, let me see!” Tony demanded, breaking the moment, and Steve carefully placed the drawing on the table for everyone to see. Everyone went silent, staring at it. Surely, Bucky thought, they could see exactly what he’d been thinking as Steve had drawn him. But nobody said anything, they rendered speechless by what they saw. It was unfinished, the background sketched in hazy lines, shading on Bucky’s body only half done. But it was beautiful.

“Hey, it’s not that bad, is it?” Steve asked, getting self-conscious as no one spoke.

“Steve, it’s beautiful,” Natasha told him. “Really.”

“It is an artwork fit to adorn the halls of my father’s palace,” Thor declared, which made Steve blush even more. The others all made noises of agreement, and Tony just patted Steve on the shoulder and turned away.

After everyone had admired Steve’s art sufficiently, they returned to dinner preparations. But they wouldn’t let Steve put the picture away, insisting it stay where they could look at it. Slowly, the conversation turned to other things, filled, as always, with good-natured bickering and jokes. As they sat down at the table together, Bucky reflected that they really were like a family. Not a family of blood, but a family of choice.

The talk that night revolved mainly around the completion of Sam’s floor of the Avengers’ Tower, which would be the lowest of the “Avengers floors”. Tony had moved several labs and offices around to accommodate him- an act he treated with as much ease as moving a piece of furniture. They all thought Fury would offer Sam a place on the Avengers soon, now that Bucky had been cleared, and it seemed that everyone anticipated the event with pleasure. Sam was genuinely a good guy, it was hard not to like him. Even when Bucky had wanted to dislike him, he’d managed to be so kind and unassuming Bucky had ended up considering him a friend.

The gathering broke up a little after ten, everyone going off to their own apartments. Steve and Bucky took the elevator up with Thor, wishing him a good night when it stopped at his floor. They got to their apartment, and Steve was already changing into his pajamas, when they remembered that they’d left the drawing downstairs.

“I’ll go get it,” Bucky offered, since he was still dressed. He also wanted to look at it some more, privately. And it was right there, where they’d left it, resting on the small coffee table in the sitting area. Bucky picked it up, and sank down on the couch with it. It was still just as beautiful as it had been hours before, the impact on him just the same as the first time he had seen it. Steve drew with his heart, that was a truth. And what he had drawn here… Bucky so wanted to hope. But if he let himself hope, it would just come to nothing. He would be hurt, and his relationship with Steve would suffer. And he couldn’t do that to Steve.

And yet. There was so much love and care put into this drawing. And not just in the drawing, but in his everyday interactions with Bucky. Could it be that maybe, just maybe, there was some hope? Bucky remembered what Steve had said, that day, weeks ago, when he’d forced him to draw again. “I missed you so much I felt like I was gonna break when I thought about you, which was damn near every day.” Could it be…? No. It was impossible. This was all just wishful thinking. Steve did care about him, but he cared in the same way he did for Tony or Natasha, for a friend, not a lover. Bucky shook his head to clear it. Obviously, he was too tired, if he was thinking thoughts like this. He stood up with the sketchpad in his hands, and noticed a light was on in another part of the common floor.

Mindful that electricity was expensive (and forgetting that Avengers’ Tower was self-powering), Bucky moved closer to the small… he thought it was meant to be a game room… to turn out the light. That was when he heard the voices.

“-Can’t just keep up with the plan. They’re suspicious now. It won’t work if they find out.” That was Sam’s voice. He should have gone home already, but that was most definitely his voice.

“These idiots,” that was Natasha. “They just won’t take a hint! They’re both so dense!” What were they talking about? Who was dense? About what? Bucky crept closer, pressing himself to the wall and moving as silently as possible. It wouldn’t do now for him to be discovered.

“Steve, I understand,” a third voice, Tony’s, spoke up. “He’s so repressed, he wouldn’t know his own emotions if they bit him. But Bucky… I thought at least he would have seen what’s going on by now.”

Bucky froze. They were talking about him and Steve.

“We should call another meeting,” Natasha said. “Change up the plan. What we’ve got so far obviously isn’t working.”

“And do what?” Sam wanted to know. “We’ve all but run out of good ideas. All the other plans we’ve heard are bound to fail. No offense, Tony.”

“None taken, Feathers,” Tony told him. “I know you all can’t tell true genius when you see it. It’s a pity, but I’ll just have to live with it.” He sounded long-suffering, and Natasha and Sam both snorted. Bucky was fairly sure it was just the three of them in there. At least, he couldn’t hear anybody else. But what the hell were they talking about?

“Ok. That helps. Thanks Tony.” Natasha’s voice was thick with sarcasm.

“I aim to please.” Tony was being his usual, obnoxious self. Unfortunately, this time was a bit too much for Natasha.

A loud sound, like someone hitting a table, came from the room, followed by Natasha’s voice. “Dammit, Tony! Be serious. We have to figure this out.”

“I know, I know,” Tony sighed. “But there’s not much we can do. I mean, short of locking them in a room and making them talk about it. Which, if you remember, was vetoed at the very beginning.”

“Because it’s a stupid plan,” Natasha shot back.

“Hey!” Tony said loudly, and there was the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. But before anything else could happen, Sam spoke up again.

“Ok, come on. Let’s review what we know. Just to be sure we’re not jumping to conclusions.” A few minutes followed with only the sound of writing, and Bucky concluded that Sam must be writing out a list. What was it with this guy and lists, anyway?

“You’ve forgot one,” Natasha said, when the writing sounds stopped at last.

“Yeah? What?” Sam asked.

“The drawing. From today. If that’s not a clear indication of Steve’s feelings, I don’t know what is.”

Bucky sucked in a breath. Steve’s feelings. Feelings of what? Now he really needed to know what they were talking about.

“Yeah, you’re right. Ok. So that’s thirty reasons. More than enough to be sure, right? We’re not just making it up.” Under Sam’s voice, Bucky heard the pen scratching across the paper again, adding reason number thirty to a list of… what?

“Right. We need the list because anyone who just looks at them can’t see they’re head-over-heels in love with each other,” Tony said, and Bucky felt like someone had just poured a bucket of cold water over his head. They thought he and Steve were in love? That Steve loved Bucky? Bucky knew that he loved Steve, and from Bruce he’d learned that it was pretty obvious. But… Steve? Really?

“Come on,” Tony continued. “Just look at the way Steve watches him. He doesn’t look at any of us like that. Even I noticed it.”

Steve watches him? But… Bucky thought about it. Steve was always watching him. Bucky had put that down to paranoia, worry that he would leave again. It would explain it, sure, but, now that he thought of it, sometimes, he had caught Steve’s expression when Steve didn’t think Bucky was looking. He hadn’t been able to read it, but maybe… Could it be? Could it really be? Was there some hope for him after all?

“Shh, wait,” Natasha said, “someone’s out there.” Bucky froze again. Had he made a noise? It was possible he could have, in his shock at Tony’s words. He tried to hold as still, breathe as silently as possible. He heard a chair being pushed away from the table, and fled, quiet as a mouse. He made it up to their apartment without being discovered, but it was a long time before he went into the bedroom, where Steve was already asleep.

 

The next morning, he woke up while Steve was still out on his run, and went downstairs. His first destination was Bruce’s room, where he found the scientist clearing the candles from his morning meditation. Bucky wasted no time with pleasantries. “You said if I told Steve how I feel, his answer might surprise me. What did you mean?”

Bruce looked up, and patted the mat in front of him. “Why do you ask?”

Obediently, Bucky came to sit before him, frowning at the man. “It’s, well. It’s complicated. I just need to know what you meant.”

“If you have to ask, I think you know what I meant,” Bruce told him.

“No. No, I don’t,” Bucky shook his head. He had an idea, something he really wanted to believe Bruce meant. But he needed to hear him say it.

Bruce raised his eyebrows at him. “Really? Well, okay…” He shook his head. “You said Steve would be upset if he knew you were in love with him. I think the opposite is true. I think he loves you, just as much as you love him.”

“I see.” Bucky stood. He had his answer, from Bruce at least. “Thanks.”

Bruce nodded and smiled. “They’ll all give you the same answer,” he said.

“Who?” Bucky asked.

“The other Avengers. You’re going to go ask them, right?”

Bucky didn’t respond. Sometimes it was scary, just how much Bruce could see.

 

Tony was in his lab, even this early in the morning. He grinned and waved when Bucky entered, gesturing for him to come over to his workbench, where he had bits and pieces of what looked like another Iron Man suit lined up. “What’s up, Snowcone?” he asked.

Bucky paused, still trying to figure out what to say.

That pause made Tony look up at him, and whatever he saw in his face was enough to alarm him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Bucky sighed. “I…” This was difficult. Speaking about his emotions had never been his strong point, especially when it was important, like now. “Tony? Has Steve said who he’s in love with?” There. He’d asked.

Tony looked at him knowingly. “Ah, no, he hasn’t. Said, that is.”

“Ah. Ok, thanks Tony, I’ll…” Bucky turned to go.

Tony’s hand on his arm stopped him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know. I am a genius after all.”

“Who?” The word was out of his mouth before he could even think about it.

“You.” Bucky could have said Tony was joking, or messing with him, but for this one time, Tony was looking at him with complete sincerity. He believed what he was saying.

“Me? You’re sure?” Bucky tried to keep the lightness in his heart down, the hope that had been growing stronger every passing second since he’d heard that conversation the night before. He had to be sure, before he acted on it. There was far too much at stake otherwise.

Tony laughed at him. “Dude, Pepper called it the day you came back. The guy’s crazy about you, everyone can see it.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. “I hope you’re right, Tony. I really, really do.”

 

Back upstairs, Thor agreed with Tony and Bruce. “You are bound together,” he told Bucky. “Your souls resonate with each other. Do not doubt his affection for you. Steven cares for you, as you do for him. It is a bond that will only strengthen over time. What you have is a true gift. I am pleased for you.”

 

“You’re kidding, right?” was Clint’s reaction, when Bucky came to ask him. Clint and Natasha were in Clint’s apartment, fixing breakfast when he walked in, Clint bleary-eyed and yawning, Natasha looking like she just rolled out of bed looking put together. She smiled indulgently at Bucky’s question, while Clint broke out laughing. Bucky just stared at him, until he calmed down. “Ok, ok,” he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “You’re not kidding. You really want to know if Steve loves you? Buddy, I’ve never seen anyone as much in love with someone, as he is with you.”

“Whether he knows it himself or not, though, is open to debate,” Natasha added. Then her eyes narrowed. “That was you, last night, wasn’t it? That’s why you’re asking this now, isn’t it?”

Bucky nodded sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to overhear.”

“Well,” she fixed her gaze on him, that determined stare he felt it would be painful to defy. “Now that you know, just make sure you do something about it.”

 

Sam laughed too, when Bucky showed up at the VA to ask him. “You two are the slowest, most dense pair I have ever met!” he exclaimed, on hearing Bucky’s question. “Of course Steve loves you.”

 

“Of course Steve loves you,” that was what it all boiled down to. “Of course Steve loves you,” as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Back in their apartment, empty for the moment, Bucky sat down once again to look at the pictures of him that Steve had drawn. He flipped through the sketchbooks again, with new eyes. This time he saw it- Steve drew with his heart. And what he drew was Bucky. It was as clear as if he’d written the words down. Steve loved Bucky, just like Bucky loved Steve. For the first time, he could let himself hope, could let himself see a future where he didn’t have to break his own heart to make Steve happy. For the first time, Bucky saw a future where he and Steve were together, in every way. Now he just had to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Anagnorisis (the series) is finished, I'm going to be on vacation for three weeks- getting to see my family for the first time in a year! Once I get back, I'll start my next new project. I've currently got three ideas, but if you've got something else you think I can or should write, I'm willing to listen!
> 
> The three ideas I have on the burner right now are these:
> 
> 1\. Shifter- "A supernatural AU in which Bucky is from a clan of shape-shifters, a secret sub-race of near-immortal humanity concentrated in the military sector. When he comes of age, he drops off the face of the earth. Steve goes looking, and uncovers his secret. What happens from there, well, that’s up to him. A love story through the ages."
> 
> 2\. Grace of God- "Earth has a guardian angel. He just doesn't know it yet." An angel AU, where Steve is an angel sent to earth to protect it from the demons that rise in times of war. He hides as a mortal, all memories of heaven locked away. But what happens, when war breaks out and the angel is needed?
> 
> 3\. Souls, Love, Classic Movies, and Other Immortal Things- "Bucky really did die when he fell off the train, Steve was the one to find the body. Seventy years later, Cap’s living in DC under a secret identity when Sam, his landlord, sends him a roommate. A roommate that looks and acts exactly like Bucky. Oh, and his name’s James Buchanan Barnes."
> 
> Which one of these would you find most interesting? Please let me know!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, chapter 18. Today we finally get to see Sam's list! I intend to post the two final chapters of Comitatus together, either tomorrow or the day after. After that, I'll do my best to get Coda up by Friday. At the very latest, it will be up by Saturday. After that, I'll be gone for a few weeks, but when I come back I'll have a new project. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented on my story ideas! If you haven't yet, and you'd like to weigh in on what big project I'm going to do next, the three ideas I'm considering are listed in the endnotes for chapter 17. I really appreciate hearing your input!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!

Steve fell into bed after Bucky left to get the picture, suddenly exhausted. He’d been struggling with that feeling all day, the one that made his heart feel warm whenever he looked at Bucky. It had been his constant companion for some time now, but he’d always been able to repress it before. He couldn’t tell you when he started feeling it, maybe it started during the war, or maybe it was from all the way back in high school. He’d successfully repressed it so well back then, that he had hardly noticed it. But whatever it was, it had lived in his heart for a very long time. And now it was getting impossible to ignore.

Steve couldn’t tell you when it started getting worse. All he could tell you was that the night before, when he’d seen Bucky’s face as he revealed he was learning Russian, it had flared up bright and hot within him. And since then, he couldn’t push it away again. Every time he looked at Bucky, he felt it. Such a warm, beautiful feeling. But whatever it was, it was wrong. It was not a feeling he should be having for his best friend. He refused to even name it. Giving the feeling a name, acknowledging it, was the first step down a path to heartache.

The art class had only made it worse. So, so much worse. Because he’d spent four hours looking at nothing but Bucky. At Bucky, without clothes on. And that had ignited other feelings he dared not name, feelings that were linked with the warmth in his heart. And now, after the class, after hearing Bucky’s reaction to the drawing, that soft breath against his neck, his voice strangely breathless and filled with wonder, everything was so much stronger. It was tearing him apart inside, and he didn’t know if he was strong enough to lock those emotions away again.

Steve didn’t know how long he wrestled with himself, before he fell asleep. He did know it was before Bucky returned, but he didn’t even wake when his friend crawled into the bed. But that morning, when he rolled over and saw Bucky’s peaceful, sleeping face, he felt that emotion rise up in him again. This wouldn’t do, he couldn’t keep on like this. He got up, and went for a run.

When he came back to their apartment, Bucky was gone. He’d left a scribbled note on the table, telling Steve he’d gone downstairs to visit Bruce. Steve thought it was probably for more meditation advice- whatever they were doing, during that nightly hour, it seemed to be working. Bucky was calmer, more like his old self than ever. It was a blessing Steve had hardly dared hope for.

After a shower, Steve came back out to find that Bucky still hadn’t returned. He also didn’t see the drawing, which Bucky had promised to get from downstairs. It had probably gotten moved during the clean-up after dinner, and Bucky hadn’t been able to find it. Steve decided that he’d go retrieve it, before doing anything else. When that was done, he’d form a plan of action for the day. Maybe he’d go visit Peggy. He hadn’t been to see her in a while, and while seeing the damage time had done to her mind was terrible, those moments when she was lucid and in control of her memory were truly wonderful.

The common floor was empty when Steve stepped out of the elevator. That wasn’t surprising, this early in the morning. Most of the Avengers usually had something to do around this time, and the others were very decidedly not morning people. They wouldn’t be up and around for hours yet. Steve looked around, but a casual glance did not reveal his sketchpad. It wasn’t in the kitchen area, or the main sitting area. Steve checked all over, including under the couches, but it just wasn’t there. Next, he decided to check the small game rooms Tony had added into the space- more intimate areas for card games or conversation. He’d also mentioned something about a game called Dungeons and Dragons, but Steve didn’t really understand what that was.

The drawing wasn’t in the first two rooms he checked, the one with the pool table, and the one with the arcade games. But it was in the third room- the one set up for card games. The sketchpad was sitting on the card table, open to the portrait of Bucky. Steve gently picked it up, and flipped the pad closed. That drawing… it drew out too much of that emotion. He should never have done it, except… he’d really wanted to. He’d needed to get that unnamed emotion out on paper, so maybe he wouldn’t feel it so much any more. That plan had sure worked really well. About as well as a paper shield.

Steve turned to go, his objective complete, when he spotted another piece of paper on the table. He probably wouldn’t have looked at it, but it had his name written on it, and that was what caught his attention. It was in Sam’s neat handwriting- a list. But not one of the lists Steve had seen before. No, this one was about Steve. And about Bucky. The title was written as “Reasons I Know Steve and Bucky Love Each Other,” with “Steve Loves Bucky” crossed out after the first three words, as if that had been the original title. Almost against his will, Steve’s eyes scanned the list. And what he read left him breathless.

 

**Reasons I Know ~~Steve Loves Bucky~~ Steve and Bucky Love Each Other**

by Sam Wilson

  1. Steve’s determination to find Bucky
  2. The songs Steve wants to sing for Bucky
  3. Steve smiles more now that Bucky’s back
  4. Steve laughs more now that Bucky’s back
  5. Steve lets Bucky take care of him
  6. Steve’s eyes when he looks at Bucky
  7. Steve’s voice when he talks about Bucky
  8. The way Bucky checks Steve’s pulse
  9. The way Steve feels better when Bucky checks his pulse
  10. Bucky’s eyes when he looks at Steve
  11. The way they gravitate around each other
  12. Bucky picked up a Russian lullaby while brainwashed
  13. The way Bucky takes care of Steve
  14. That picture in Steve’s room
  15. The way they act like an old married couple sometimes
  16. Bucky got Steve to draw again
  17. Steve draws Bucky more than anyone/anything else
  18. They exchange dog tags when Steve goes on missions
  19. Steve is the only one Bucky trusts
  20. Steve watched Tony operate on Bucky’s arm
  21. Bucky made Tony add Steve to the people able to access the arm
  22. Bucky admitted he was in love with Steve
  23. The way they light up when they’re around each other
  24. The way they are so absolutely prefect for one another
  25. Bucky’s face when Steve spoke in Russian
  26. Steve learned Russian to know what Bucky was saying in his nightmares
  27. Steve said there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Bucky
  28. Steve’s face when he said it (see #27)
  29. Bucky’s face when Steve said it (see #27)
  30. The drawing from the art class



After reading the list, Steve sank down into one of the chairs. Love. That was the emotion. That was what he refused to name. Because naming it meant his whole relationship with Bucky would change, because there was no way Bucky felt the same. He’d tried so hard. So hard. All he had wanted was to stay with Bucky, the same as it always had been. But love… that would ruin everything, because he wouldn’t be able to keep it to himself. He was terrible at keeping secrets, and he wouldn’t lie. And then Bucky would find out, and he’d try not to let it get to him, because he does care about Steve, but in the end everything would change. Bucky would distance himself, start sleeping in his own room, maybe move to his own apartment. And in the end, Steve would be alone again. Because he’d had the nerve to go and fall in love with his best friend.

Steve hadn’t wanted to give a name to his feelings. But here, Sam had done it for him. And this was Sam’s list of how he had known about it, before Steve had even acknowledged it himself. Not only that, but the list included reasons as to why Sam thought Bucky felt the same. And… there was number 22- “Bucky admitted he was in love with Steve,” which, if true, might mean that things didn’t have to change. But that… that was a big ‘if’. And it was a chance Steve didn’t think he was strong enough to take. Not when the consequences of being wrong were so high.

Now Steve really needed to go see Peggy. He needed her advice.

 

Luck was with him that morning- Peggy was feeling well, and when he came in she smiled and called him by name. It looked like today was one of her good days, which were getting fewer and fewer as her illness progressed. She took his hand in hers when he sat down by her bedside.

“Hi there. How’s my best girl?” Steve smiled at her, even though it was always difficult to keep a smile on his face when he saw her in such obvious pain.

“Oh you,” Peggy said, but grinned at him. “I’m doing just fine. How are you?”

“Well, I’m alright,” Steve told her, because he was. Then he pulled the small bouquet of flowers from behind his back. She gasped in delight and smelled them, like she did every time he came.

“Oh Steve, they’re beautiful. What’s the occasion?” That was part of the script, and he knew what to say next.

“A fella doesn’t need an occasion to bring flowers to a pretty girl.”

“Well, thank you Steve. I love them.” Peggy directed him to put them in a vase by the window, where she could easily see them. The flowers he had brought last time were still there, and he got fresh water for them as well. Then he returned to her side and sat. They spent an hour or two chatting, Steve catching her up on his latest mission and the doings at the tower, Peggy telling him the latest news from her family or what she thought about current events. It was relaxing, and made him remember just how much he had cared for her. But the love he held for Peggy… it wasn’t the same as what he felt for Bucky.

At last, when they had exhausted most of their usual topics, Peggy looked at him, and gave him a frustrated sigh. “Steve,” she said, with that familiar look of exasperation and fondness, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s…” he sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Start at the beginning,” she advised him. “Is it a girl?”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “No, not a girl.” It was the opposite, in fact. But, how to tell her that? Sure, she was a very modern woman, but, she’d been raised when homosexuality was illegal. They’d never talked about it before, so he didn’t know what she personally felt. He’d never seen anything wrong with it himself, love was love. He’d just never thought it could apply to him. He’d never talked about it with Bucky either, come to think of it. Maybe, even if Bucky did love him, he wouldn’t want to act on it, because he thought it was wrong. Oh, wonderful. Another thing for him to worry about.

“Well. I know the look of a man in love, and don’t bother to deny it!” Peggy examined his face, which Steve could feel heating and turning red. “Oh, Steve. It’s Bucky, isn’t it?”

“How… how did you know?” Was he that obvious? Could everyone see how he felt?

“Steve,” Peggy took his hand in hers. “Anyone who knows you can see it. The way you talk about him, the way you look at him. It’s clear. You love him. You’ve loved him, I think, for a very long time.”

“I… Peggy…” Steve was at a loss for words. “I don’t…”

“Don’t you lie to me, Steven Rogers,” she told him, looking him dead in the eyes. “And don’t you lie to yourself. I knew it back in the war, just like I know it now. You love Bucky, more than anyone else in the world.”

The words hit him like a ton of bricks. Back in the war. He’d been in love with Bucky even then. And Peggy had known.

“Peggy, you know that I… you and I, I wanted…” He’d been so stupid. So, so stupid. She’d kissed him. Before he had crashed the plane, she’d kissed him. He had thought he loved her. He did love her, didn’t he?

“Oh, Steve.” She squeezed his hand. “My poor, beautiful, innocent man. I know. I know you thought we would be together, you and I. And I, I knew that you and Bucky could never be, and I had hoped I would be enough.”

“I did love you, Peggy. I do.” Steve couldn’t bear to see that sad, faraway look in her eyes. To know he, and his repressed emotions, had put it there.

“Yes,” she smiled up at him. “You do love me. As I love you. But not in the way either of us thought. I didn’t realize it myself, until I fell in love with my husband.” Her eyes fell to the pictures on her bedside table. “I hadn’t thought… love, it’s a complicated emotion. There are many, many kinds of love. Romantic love is just one of them. Love for friends, love for family, those feelings can be just as strong. What I feel for you, I thought it was romantic love. But that was only because I had never truly been in love before.

“Now,” she met his eyes again. “I want you to think about what you feel for me, Steve. Think about it, and consider the love you have for your family, and for your friends. Is it any different?”

For Peggy, Steve would do just about anything. Including look at his own emotions. He thought of his mother, and Bucky’s mother after her- the women who raised him. He loved them both, very much. Bucky’s dad, too. And his grandmother. It was a family kind of love, nothing physical about it. Just bonds of gratitude, and mutual care and affection.

The Howling Commandos, they who had been his closest companions, were next in his thoughts. His brothers in arms. He had loved them too, in a way. Loyalty, care, trust, the bonds of those to whom he owed his life, and who owed their lives to him. He loved them as his brothers. Again, there was nothing romantic about that kind of love. It was deeper than the way he cared for other friends, those who had not fought by his side. He loved them, and he cared for them, and he led them into battle. But they looked up to him as their leader, and that would always set him just that little bit apart, no matter how close they became. They were his friends, his brothers, but they were also his responsibility. It was a complicated love, but a strong one.

The Avengers now, Tony, Sam, Natasha, Clint, Thor, Bruce, even Phil. That was even another kind of love. Something so close to what he felt for the Commandos, but in a way, more simple, more straightforward. They had been thrown together in fire, and though they had not all gotten along at first, there were some things you could not go through, without becoming friends. They were all equals, chosen for their particular abilities and talents. They had cared for Steve, brought him out of his self-imposed isolation, called when they thought he might be lonely, took him out to eat to get him out of his apartment, looked after him- not because they had to, or because they were teammates, but because they wanted to. They’d helped him with Bucky, too, and if Steve hadn’t already cared for them, that would have been more than enough to earn his love.

He knew Tony had done more than he had said, from little things he and Bucky had let slip, but Tony never asked for thanks. He’d just done it, out of the kindness of his heart- the kindness he tried to hide behind a sarcastic, uncaring exterior. Steve had learned about him from the times he’d randomly dropped by to take him out to dinner, or the occasional mission together. Tony indulged Steve’s need to be solitary, and Steve said nothing about Tony’s self-destructive habits. Tony was the brother of his heart, and though they did not always get along, they had built a bond of mutual respect, and when they fought, it was a fight of brothers- the anger never washing out the love.

Sam was like a brother too, the man who had stuck with him throughout his long, long search for Bucky. Sam had been his support structure, the one he turned to when it felt like they would never achieve their goal. Steve was drawn to his kindness, his steady, caring heart. Sam loved everybody, and everybody loved Sam. He was the one Steve went to, when he needed to talk, or when he just needed to sit in silence for a while. He was the rock Steve clung to, when the storm inside got too much. (Yes, he was the rock, but Bucky was the sun that broke through the storm and sent it on its way.)

Nat was a sister, and a close friend. She was still learning what it was, to have real human relationships. Sometimes she made mistakes, but she tried her best, and Steve could see that.She wanted him to be happy, and was willing to help him however she could. She trusted Steve to guide her, navigating the world outside of espionage. Sometimes, he felt he was the only moral compass she had. But she was a good person at heart. She wanted the same thing Steve wanted- to protect the people she cared about. Her secrets had secrets, sometimes even from her, but despite that, she was trying. And Steve wanted to help her, just as she wanted to help him. She was persistent, drawing him out of his cocoon at gunpoint (sometimes literally,) trying to get him back in the world. His trip across America had been her idea, to see the place he’d given everything to protect. Being around Bucky was hard for her, but she still tried, for Steve’s sake. Sometimes Steve thought of her as a younger sister- in need of guidance from a wiser elder brother. Sometimes, their roles were reversed, and he was the one in need of an older sister. And when he was in battle, if he couldn’t have Bucky, it was Natasha he wanted watching his back.

The others, he didn’t know as well as those three. But he trusted them with his life, and they trusted theirs to him. He’d learned to value Phil’s sincerity, Bruce’s kindness, Thor’s honor, and Clint’s dependability. They each had their place in the Avengers, and in Steve’s heart. Truer friends, he’d never known. They weren’t his blood family, but they were family all the same. Because family was the ones that loved and supported you, no matter what. The ones that pushed you when you needed, and cared for you when you were sick. The ones who would always be there, no matter what, drop everything the moment you needed them. And that was what the Avengers were to him. Family. And that was how he loved them.

What he felt for Peggy, he’d always thought it was romantic love. But looking at that feeling now, comparing it to what he felt for his friends, and to what he felt for Bucky, it was far more like that love he held for the Avengers. He cared about her. But he cared about her the same way he cared for Natasha and Tony. Fond, and caring. But without the fire he felt when he thought of Bucky. She was right, it was not romance he sought from her, and it never had been. It was something far simpler- true friendship.

But what he felt about Bucky. Well, that was a whole different animal all together. Bucky was his whole world. The center around which his universe moved. The one he had been willing to die for, the one whom he would rather die, than never see again. He was never happier than when he was with Bucky. And when Bucky was gone, it had been the greatest pain he had ever known.

They say that at the center of a galaxy is a super-massive black hole, a violent force of gravity pulling everything towards it. Once caught in it’s gravity, there is no escape. And that was how he felt about Bucky. He was caught in his gravity, falling, always falling, in to the center where Bucky waited. He’d been falling for a very long time now, without even noticing it. But now he was over the event horizon, and he knew what was pulling him in. Bucky was the one he wanted to share everything with. It was Bucky’s smiles he looked for, Bucky’s approval he craved. His trust in Bucky was absolute, his love for Bucky limitless. Steve needed Bucky, in a way he had never needed anyone else. Maybe he’d always needed Bucky this way. It felt… well, he wasn’t one to believe in destiny. But he did believe in God. And maybe, maybe God had made he and Bucky for each other. Two halves of the same heart, two parts of the same soul. That was how he felt, and nothing would ever change that. Yes, he loved Peggy. He also loved Tony, and Natasha, and Sam, and all the Avengers. But he was in love with Bucky. And that made all the difference.

When Steve looked up again, Peggy was watching him.

“Do you see now?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

Steve nodded. “I do. I- I care for you, the same way I do Tony, or Natasha. But the way I feel about Bucky…”

“It’s stronger, isn’t it? You’d do almost anything for me, or your teammates. But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Bucky. He’s your center point, your reason for fighting.” She smiled, and there was no longer any sadness in her eyes. “I saw your face, when you learned Bucky had been taken. I’ll never forget it, how desperate you looked. And I thought, ‘someday, I want someone to look that way about me.’ You gave your life to save the world, Steve. But I think for him, you would beat down the gates of hell itself.”

“I… I’m sorry, Peggy. That you and I didn’t work out.” It was all he could think to say, in the face of that. Because her words were true. If God himself stood in his way, Steve would knock him down to get to Bucky.

“I am too. But I had a good life. Now it’s your turn.”

Steve looked down. Yes, he loved Bucky. But that didn’t mean Bucky felt the same, or that he even wanted a relationship.

“Steve? What is it?” Peggy reached out and tilted his chin back up to look at her.

“It’s…” with anyone else, he wouldn’t have been able to say it. But this was Peggy, and he knew she would never judge him. “What if he doesn’t love me? Or- or if he does, what if he doesn’t want to be with me? Maybe he’d rather try with a dame, or, I dunno, maybe he just wants things to stay as they are.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Peggy laboriously pushed herself into a sitting position, glaring at him, just like she always had when he’d done something stupid. “Now, you listen to me. You can ‘what if’ yourself to death. That isn’t going to change the facts. And the facts are these- you love Bucky. And I’m certain he loves you, too. Whether he wants to be with you or not, well, that’s for the two of you to decide. But the Steve Rogers I know is not a coward. And hiding behind ‘what ifs’ is a coward’s choice. So you tell me, Steve. Are you a coward? Or will you be the man I know you are?”

“No, ma’am,” Steve had somehow snapped to attention, or as close to it as he could get, sitting down. It felt like he was getting a dressing-down from a superior officer, and in a way, he supposed he was.

“No, ma’am, what?” Peggy demanded.

“No, ma’am, I’m not a coward,” Steve told her, and her face relaxed back into a smile.

“Good. Now, are you going to go talk to that boy, or do I need to go drag him here to talk to you?” The threat was an idle one- she could barely sit up on her own. Getting Bucky anywhere by force was now beyond her. But he appreciated the sentiment.

“No, no, I’ll go talk to him.”

“Good.” She nodded, satisfied. “Then what are you still doing here?”

 

On the way back to the tower, Steve thought about what he was going to do. Or, rather, what he was going to say. He ran through imaginary conversations in his head, trying to decide how it should go. He could be forceful, demand Bucky tell him how he felt. Or he could plead, ask Bucky to be with him. Or he could simply state his feelings, and wait for Bucky to respond. It was so hard, harder than any battle. He didn’t know what to do, where to begin. He’d never confessed his love before, he didn’t even really know how to go about it. His thoughts were still chasing circles around his head when he stepped out of the elevator. And there was Bucky, sitting with the sketchpad he’d left on the table, open to yesterday’s drawing. Studying it. He looked up when Steve came in. And suddenly, all thoughts went out of Steve’s head in pure panic. This was it. What he said or did next would be the most important action of his life. And how Bucky responded would either bring Steve the greatest happiness he had ever known, or cast him down into the deepest misery.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, our boys get their act together!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented or left kudos, and thank you all, so very much, for reading!

Life is not a pencil drawing. It’s written in pen. No eraser can ever remove what has happened. Words, once spoken, cannot be retracted. This was a truth Bucky well knew. And now, he had to decide. To say the words he had kept inside until now, or to remain silent, to let things stay as they were. To act, or to not act on the emotion he hoped they both felt. His decision was made, even before the elevator doors had closed behind Steve. Action was the only thing he really knew. He could only do what he felt was right, and wait for Steve to respond.

Steve’s face when he looked at him made him stop. He looked… tormented. “Steve,” Bucky stood, reaching out for him. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

Steve forced his face into a smile. His ‘I’m fine’ smile, the one Bucky could tell was bullshit from a mile off. “Nothing’s wrong, Buck. I’m fine. I just… I need to talk to you about something.”

“Good,” Bucky said. “Because I need to talk to you about something too.” Fear was edging its way into his heart. When someone said they needed to talk… that was hardly ever good.

“Come on,” Steve looked over at the balcony. “Let’s go outside.”

Bucky approved. Though Tony had removed the surveillance in their apartment once Bucky was pronounced fit for duty, there was still a chance of being overheard. Outside, on their own balcony, it felt more private, even with the whole of the city beneath their feet. Bucky stood, and went to take Steve’s wrist, that gesture of comfort for them both. But Steve moved away, towards the balcony. Maybe he hadn’t seen Bucky’s movement. But then again, maybe he had. And things were worse than Bucky feared.

Outside, they sat facing each over the small breakfast table they sometimes used. It was mid-afternoon, but the cloudy skies made it seem closer to evening. There was a storm blowing in, but Bucky didn’t know if it would bring damaging winds, or healing rain. For now, they simply sat in the calm, cool air, and waited to see who was going to make the first move.

“I-” Bucky began.

“You-” Steve spoke at the same time. They both grinned at each other, and suddenly Steve was blushing. Bucky could feel his face heating as well. Oh, they made a pair, didn’t they.

“You go ahead,” Steve offered.

“No, you go ahead. I can wait.” Bucky swallowed back his emotions. As desperate as he was to have out with it, and have the anxiety of waiting over with, whatever Steve needed was more important.

“Well, I… you might not want to talk to me anymore, once I’ve said it. So you should go ahead.” Oh fuck. That boded well.

“Well, after saying something like that, you don’t really expect me to wait to hear it, do you?” Bucky tried for a smile, but it ended up as more of an odd sort of twitching of his lips. “Come on, how bad could it be?”

“I…” Steve looked down, and Bucky’s stomach sank down past his shoes. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

“Sorry?” Bucky asked, fear making him louder than necessary. “Sorry for what?”

“I… God, Buck, how do I even say this?” Steve ran a hand distractedly through his hair. “I… fuck.”

The last time Bucky had heard Steve swear was… he thought maybe it was when they’d learned Bucky’s mother had cancer. He didn’t like to swear, unless he absolutely couldn’t help it. That he would do so now…

“Just, just say it. Whatever it is, just tell me.I can take it, I promise.” Bucky meant that promise. He loved Steve, and nothing at all would change that. Whatever Steve had to say to him, he would deal with it. Because he loved him, he could do nothing else.

Steve took a deep breath, and looked Bucky in the eyes. “First of all, I want you to know that nothing has to change. If, after I’ve finished, you want to forget I ever said it, you can.”

Oh no. This was bad. This was very, very bad. And just when Bucky had been ready to confess his love to Steve. True, he hadn’t thought much about how he was going to confess, but he’d been determined to do it. God. He’d convinced himself that Steve loved him, too. Was he wrong?

“Steve.” Bucky hoped none of his feelings showed in his voice, but he was pretty sure at least some of the fear came through. “Just tell me.”

“I love you.” The words came out in a rush, almost unintelligible. But Bucky had spent most of his life listening to Steve in all sorts of situations. He’d heard Steve slur worse than that, a few of the times when he was deathly ill. He knew what Steve said. And yet, he had to ask.

“What? Steve, did you just say…?”

“Sorry,” Steve looked down, face coloring. “I… I know you probably don’t want…”

He had said it. He had. The others hadn’t been wrong. Steve really did love him. Of all the people in the world, he, Bucky, was the one Steve loved. For a moment, Bucky couldn’t move, couldn’t even begin to speak. There was too much joy in him for words.

 

“What? Steve, did you just say…?” Bucky asked. Steve watched his hands, instead of Bucky’s face. He couldn’t bear to see his reaction. He hated having no control over the situation, but he could do nothing here. How Bucky responded would determine everything.

When Bucky didn’t speak again, Steve’s fear spiked. He’d read the whole situation wrong. There was no way Bucky was in love with him. “Sorry,” he said. “I… I know you probably don’t want…” He couldn’t bring himself to go on. Silence settled between them, and still Steve couldn’t look up. If he had, he would have seen the happiest expression on Bucky’s face.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, and Steve flinched. Here it came. The rejection. “Steve, you stupid, wonderful, idiot.”

Steve slowly raised his eyes, heart in his throat. Bucky didn’t sound angry, or disappointed. No, he sounded, and looked… joyful. Bucky was smiling at him, the artless, open smile Steve loved. He reached for Steve’s hand, fingers wrapping not around his wrist, but his palm. Their fingers twined together, without Steve really knowing which of them had done it.

“Don’t want? Were you going to say that I don’t want you? Is that what you thought? That I don’t love you? Steve. You know me better than that. I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anybody. If one of us were to walk away, it should be you. I’m broken, in more ways that either of us might ever know. You should run, while you still have the chance. Because once you commit to this, to us, I’m not letting you go.”

Steve laughed, the sound forcing it’s way from his throat without his say-so. Bucky’s words echoed in his mind- ‘I love you.’ The rest was just a cover, a smokescreen, an out, in case he wanted it. He’d never wanted anything less. “Bucky, you don’t get rid of me that easy. If I was gonna run, I would’a done it a long time ago.”

“So?” Bucky leaned in. “That mean you want to do this? Us?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I think it means I do.”

“Then,” Bucky sounded breathless, “what are you still doing over there?”

Steve leaned in, until only a few breaths separated their faces. “I don’t know,” he said. “What do you think?”

 

Neither of them could ever decide which one moved first. Bucky swore it was Steve, while Steve swore it was Bucky. But in the end, it didn’t really matter who did it. What mattered was that suddenly, they were kissing. Heat coursed through their bodies, and all they could hear was the beating of their hearts. Somehow, they were standing, the table knocked over and kicked out of the way. Steve found his hands clutching at Bucky’s shirt, pulling him tightly against him. Bucky’s hands worked their way up and under his shirt, and Steve gasped at the feel of the smooth metal fingers along his spine. His reaction seemed to spur Bucky on, because suddenly Bucky wasn’t just holding on to him, he was squeezing him, fingers digging in, marking him. Steve couldn’t resist, he bent his head to Bucky’s jaw, and pressed his lips to his skin. The mark he left would be visible to all who saw Bucky, before his advanced healing made it fade away. And once it did fade, he’d put it back again. Because Bucky was his. And Steve wanted everyone to see it.

They didn’t stop kissing, until a large raindrop landed on Steve’s face. Then he paused, and reached up to brush it away. But Bucky, with a wicked smile on his lips, leaned back in, and licked it away.

“Mm,” he said, when it was done. “But you taste better.”

“Bucky!” Steve blushed, unused to hearing such words directed at him.

“Truth, doll.” Bucky’s wicked grin was back. “Or don’t you believe me?”

“I believe you,” Steve told him. And for a moment, they simply looked at one another. Steve was overwhelmed by his luck, by this beautiful gift the universe had given him. Just to know Bucky, to be part of his life, that would have been more than enough. To love him, and be loved by him, that was more than he could have imagined. “God I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Good,” Bucky smiled up at him. “Because I love you, Steven Rogers. And now you’re stuck with me.”

The rain started falling around them, soaking them to the skin. But neither Steve nor Bucky noticed. They were too wrapped up in each other. The outside world might as well not exist.

 

Hours later, after they’d finally come in from the rain, Bucky looked over to see Steve stretched out beside him on the couch. Because he could, he leaned over and kissed him. It was wonderful, to be able to touch, to kiss, to know that Steve was his, and he was Steve’s. Three little words. That was all that had needed saying. Three words, with all their heart behind them.

“I love you,” Steve said, when Bucky broke the kiss. “You know that, right?”

Bucky hummed in contentment. “I think you’ve proved it sufficiently. For tonight.”

Steve laughed. “Jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky said, and realized that, all along, when he called Steve a punk, and Steve called him a jerk, they had been saying ‘I love you.’

Maybe Steve realized it too, because he smiled. And Bucky’s breath caught in his throat, because it was the smile. The one that had always reminded him of sunlight. It was back. Steve was finally smiling like used to, before everything, before the war, and the ice. And Bucky thought he knew what had done it.

To test his theory, he said those three words, “I love you,” and watched Steve’s smile widen. So it was true, it hadn’t been drawing, or singing, or anything else he’d needed, to be happy again. What he’d needed was Bucky. Well, now he had him. And that, right there, was grounds enough for another kiss. Bucky leaned back down, and kissed him again.

When they broke apart Steve reached up and pulled Bucky closer, shifting so he was laid out against Bucky’s shoulder, head resting against his neck. “So,” he murmured, when he finally settled, “what do you think the others will think? About us?”

Bucky laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry, Steve. They were plotting to get us together. All of them.”

Steve laughed too. “Well, I’ll be. So it wasn’t a prank war they were starting after all.”

“Nope. I found Nat, Sam, and Tony downstairs last night, when I went to get your drawing. They were trying to think up new plans, since nothing else had worked. Sam wrote a list of something, I think it was reasons why they knew about us. But then they realized I was there, and I had to run or they’d know I was listening.”

“Huh.” Steve reached into his pocket, and pulled out a folded, slightly soggy piece of paper. “That’s why I found this when I went looking for my sketchpad this morning.”

Bucky took the paper, and carefully unfolded it. “Yeah, sorry about that, pal. I think I dropped it in my hurry to get out without Natasha catching me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve told him. “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gone looking. And if I hadn’t been looking, I wouldn’t have found this,” he tapped the list in Bucky’s hands. The ink was slightly faded, and had run in places, but it was still legible. “And if I hadn’t found this, I might never have realized how much I love you.”

“You would’ve,” Bucky said, scanning the list. Sam, or maybe others, had been paying close attention to he and Steve, it seemed. But they weren’t wrong, the things that they had picked up on were things Bucky himself had missed, until Steve had told him he loved him. “’Cause I was gonna tell you tonight.”

“You were?” Steve looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. He set the list down on the table, and wrapped an arm around Steve. “After last night, I went to talk to everyone. And they all told me the same thing- you love me just as much as I love you. It gave me hope, that maybe, since they all seemed so convinced, if I told you, you wouldn’t send me away.”

“Oh Buck, I could never send you away.” One of Steve’s hands came up to wrap around the one Bucky had placed on his shoulder. “Never.”

“I know,” Bucky couldn’t help himself, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I know. I guess I was just scared.”

“I was scared too,” Steve admitted. “I didn’t want to lose you. And I was afraid, if I let myself feel this, you’d leave.”

“Well, I ain’t leaving,” Bucky said. “I promised, didn’t I? Never again. So long as you want me around, I’m staying right here.”

“Forever, then,” Steve told him.

“Forever,” Bucky agreed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow. Here we are, at the end of Comitatus. It's been a wild ride to get here, but I've enjoyed every minute of it! Thank you all so much for reading this project of mine. 
> 
> Please note that I posted TWO chapters today. And if you're reading this, you're probably not gonna want to miss chapter 19, so if you haven't already, please head back and read it. 
> 
> The final story in the series, Coda, should be up by the end of the week. After that, I'm taking a three week vacation, and when I get back (from the World Science Fiction Convention!!!) I'll start a new project. There'll also be a couple one-shots that I'm working on, and who knows what other ideas will pop up between now and then. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter of Comitatus.

Two weeks later, it was moving day at Avengers’ Tower. Thor’s Jane and her team had arrived from England, and everyone had gathered to get them settled in. Steve, Bucky, and Thor managed the heavy lifting, while Tony and Bruce helped Jane supervise her lab setup. Everyone else pitched in where they could, and soon enough, Thor’s friends were settled into their new home. Afterwords, they all gathered in the common floor for a celebratory meal- takeout, since everyone was exhausted from the moving. Tony watched over his people, as they sat around the dinner table, passing boxes of Chinese food around. Everyone was smiling, happy. And that, that made Tony happy. Because this was his family, and right here, with them, he had finally made a place for himself. And he was doing his best to make them all as contented as he was.

His crowning glory was Steve and Bucky. That pair sat halfway down the table from Tony, and were quite obviously holding hands under the table. They’d finally gotten it together, and realized just how much in love they both were. It was all thanks to Tony’s brilliant planning, of course, though Sam might claim it was because of his list, and Natasha might say it was because Bucky overheard them plotting. The argument had also been made that it was thanks to Peggy talking Steve into making the first move that they’d gotten together, but she wasn’t even one of the Avengers, so that was just cheating. (Tony was well aware most people couldn’t follow the logic of his last statement. But that was fine, they couldn’t all be geniuses.) What mattered was the direct results of his Plan to Make Steve and Bucky Kiss had pushed the two super-soldiers into admitting their feelings.

And now they were together. Anyone who looked at them could see that. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other. Bucky had a hickey on his jaw, while Steve had a matching mark on his neck. Steve was smiling, bigger and brighter than ever. And the way they revolved around each other hadn’t changed in the slightest. Sam was still adding items on his list of why they knew Steve and Bucky love each other, but Tony had long since decided it was a waste of energy. They didn’t need a list to tell them what was right in front of their faces. Because Steve and Bucky were prefect together. It was sickeningly adorable. Sometimes Tony had to run down to his lab and blow something up, just to get out the feelings watching them caused.

Next to Tony, Pepper squeezed his hand. “You did good,” she told him. And Tony turned his eyes to her. He and Pepper may not have the love story of Steve and Bucky, but what they had was exactly what they needed. And for now, Tony could focus on just her, on making Pepper happy. At least until the next great idea came around.

 

Sam watched Steve and Bucky from his seat across the table. Finally, they had opened up and allowed each other in. Nothing much had changed, when you considered it. They still acted the same as always. There was just more touching involved. And while neither of them seemed to be big fans of public displays of affection, there was definitely kissing going on when they thought no-one would see. Sam had caught them at it in the kitchen when he’d gone to get a beer. Bucky had pressed Steve into the corner behind the fridge, and they’d both looked up when Sam had walked in. Steve’s face had turned bright red, but Bucky just grinned, grabbed Steve by the hand, and tugged him out to where the others were waiting.

Seeing them together, it made Sam happy, but also a little sad. They had what he had had with Riley, and he couldn’t help the ache that settled within him when he thought of his wing-man. But Riley was dead, and as Sam had once told Steve, just because Riley died, that didn’t mean Sam had. Meeting Steve had brought new purpose into his life, a reason to fight again. Steve had given him back his wings, and in return, Sam had helped Steve find his own heart. He had a feeling he was needed on this team, if only as a counselor. It was a feeling Nick Fury shared, it seemed, if the letter currently sitting upstairs on his table was anything to go by. They were all broken in a way, but at least they could be broken together. And little by little, Sam would help them fill in the cracks. And in return, maybe they would help him fix his.

 

Natasha was happy. Truly, honestly, happy. For the first time in forever, there was nothing to worry about. The world was safe for now. No enemies were at large to threaten the peace, no danger loomed on the horizon. And close to home, Steve had finally found his happiness, and Clint devoted much of his time to making sure Natasha remembered her own. Her new covers were all in place, and until her next mission, there was nothing pressing for her to do. She could take time to simply enjoy her life. Which… was boring. But there was that idea she’d had, about creating a code language. Maybe if she could pry Steve and James apart for long enough, they could all sit down and throw words around. And once the language was perfected, they could start using it in battle. Hmm…

“I see those gears in your head turning,” Clint muttered to her. “What’re you thinking about?”

“A new project,” she told him.

“Oh no. This isn’t another thing you’re going to drag me into, is it?” Clint asked, eyes wide.

“Well, it’s your choice. Of course, I still have that photo…” Nat grinned, confidant her leverage would get her what she wanted.

“Well, now that you mention it, I guess I’m not so worried about what everyone would think. Steve’s obviously too happy to be mad at me, and I don’t think Tony cares. So go ahead. Show them.”

“Okay,” she pulled out her phone. “Hey, Steve, James, want to see something funny?”

“Ah! Hey! I didn’t mean to actually show them!” Clint protested, already blushing. Oh, this was going to be good.

“Too late, you said show them.” Natasha gave him her sweetest smile, and pushed her phone across the table to Steve, and waited for his reaction.

“Is that…” James asked leaning over Steve’s shoulder to look at the picture.

“Yeah, it is. Clint, what were you doing with my shield?” Steve looked from the phone over to Clint, who hid his face in his hands.

“Oh god. Kill me now.”

“Hey, let me see!” Tony demanded, and Steve slid the phone across to him. Tony caught it, took one look, and burst out laughing. Pepper took the phone from him, and giggled. Pretty soon, the picture had made it’s rounds of the table, and the gales of laugher were almost worth losing the leverage over Clint for. Because it was a photo of Clint, wearing Tony’s Iron Man helmet, carrying his own bow in one hand and Cap’s shield in the other, trying to give a threatening pose for the camera. He looked ridiculous. It was one of Natasha’s favorite pictures of him.

“It was a dare!” Clint tried to tell everyone. “We were coming back from a mission, and they were just there, in the armory. So Nat said I should do it. And I said no, so she dared me!”

“You were the one to suggest it first,” Nat fired back at him. She retrieved her phone from Darcy, and looked to see that the girl had sent the picture to everyone sitting at the table. Oh man. Natasha couldn’t wait to see Clint’s face when he realized what had happened. Right now, life couldn’t get any better.

 

Clint wasn’t sure he could show his face around the tower for a while, now that everyone had seen that picture. It had been a dare! It wasn’t his fault! He just hoped a new project would come along to distract everyone before the teasing got too bad. Considering the outcome of the last project everyone had worked on, he’d say they had a pretty good track record. Speaking of, he looked over to where Steve and Bucky were sitting. They were leaning over Steve’s phone, heads together, looking at something. Clint really, really hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was. But, knowing his luck, they’d probably got a copy of the photo somehow. Which meant Tony would get one, and, well, life as Clint knew it would be over. He would never hear the end of it. Sure, he looked silly, wearing Tony’s helmet and carrying Steve’s shield, but they all did silly things. Oh, now there was an idea. Maybe he could get incriminating pictures of everyone else. Hmm… Bucky would probably help, if he promised not to take one of Steve, and he could get around that by taking one of Steve and Bucky together (god knows some of the positions those two had been caught in over the past two weeks would work.) Oh yes. This was a good idea.

 

Thor watched his friends from where he sat by Jane’s side. His lady had finally returned to him, and he was not about to leave her for anything. He had missed her, the weeks they had been apart. It seemed that every time they were together, parting became more difficult. But no matter, Thor now planned on making Midgard his home. He could stay with his Jane, for as long as she would have him. This was the world he loved, and here, in this tower, were all the humans he cared for best. There could be no place better. This, here, was better even than Valhalla.

 

Bruce found himself at peace, even in the midst of the noise the others were making. Everyone was happy, especially Steve. And that was as it should be. After everything he’d been through, Steve deserved to be happy. And tomorrow, Bruce would be just as happy. He’d gotten a call that morning- Betty was coming to New York, and this time it might be for something more permanent than a visit. He would introduce her to the team, and he was sure they’d all get along. If all went well, Tony would be able to add one more to his ‘people collection’ (as Bucky had taken to calling the residents of the tower.) And, while it seemed they would be unable to turn the anti-serum that had been used on Steve into an antidote for him, for now, Bruce was alright as he was. He had his anger under control, and the Other Guy was there, should he be called upon to defend the world again. Hopefully, though, he wouldn’t be needed for a very long time.

 

Everyone in the tower was content. And as for Steve and Bucky? Well, they couldn’t be happier. It seemed to Steve that everything and nothing had changed. Everything, in that he now had Bucky’s love, and Bucky had his. Nothing, in that that wasn’t really anything new. There had been no monumental shift in the way they behaved, no earth-shaking difference in their daily routine or interactions. Everything went on, just as it had before. Except that now, when their hands brushed, they twined their fingers together. And sometimes Bucky cornered him for a kiss, out of nowhere. (Sometimes Steve was the one that did the cornering.) And when they went to bed, well, they no longer just talked until late in the night. There were much more pleasurable activities to be doing under the covers.

Yes, life had only changed a little. And it felt like it was always meant to be this way. Steve was happier than he could remember being. Every time he looked at Bucky, he thought his heart was so full that it would burst. Some days, he wondered if this was all just a beautiful dream. If it was, it was one he never wanted to end. Because he didn’t get bad dreams anymore. The fears and pain that had tormented him every night were, not gone, but insignificant, in the face of the joy in his life. This was his life, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

 

And Bucky, Bucky was happy because Steve was happy. He still had his demons to deal with, still had to work at controlling that anger. But it was no longer so hard as it had been. Now, he knew he was no longer alone. He had everything he needed, sitting right beside him. Sometimes, he worried that Steve would decide he was too much work, that he was too broken to fix. But those worries were quickly chased away by one look at Steve. Because now, when he looked at Steve, he saw that smile, the one he loved best. Steve’s sunlight smile was finally, finally back. And Bucky would keep it there, so long as it was within his power to do so.


End file.
